


Carpe Noctem

by OerbaIzalith



Series: Seize the Night Chronicles [1]
Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Houndofgod!Ethan, Lucifer is a little bitch, Mild non-con, Present day London, Vanessa VS Hecate, au after season 2, tiny bit of Argento and FFXIII influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4814189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OerbaIzalith/pseuds/OerbaIzalith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Present day AU. Two covens, one led by Vanessa, the other by Hecate, prepare for a fight to the death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suster (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own or intend to infringe upon copyright in any way, so please don't sue me John Logan, I'm a student. This is my first attempt at an epic, hope it turns out so.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Demimonde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a lot more epic than I had first imagined, so hope you enjoy long walks in dark gardens.

The midnight hour was bustling with activity, as London always was. Monica wasn't from London, and she had no idea how she got there. She had gone to bed in her home in Bloemfontein, South Africa, having worked the closing shift at a local cocktail bar which left her exhausted. She had switched the tv on for background ambiance, and when her head connected with the pillow, she had slipped away almost instantly. When she awoke, she was sitting in a movie theater wearing nothing but the white silk night gown she had worn to bed, the credits rolling across the screen.

When she left the theater, she noticed dozens of people giving her sideways glances, probably wondering if this was a woman with no sense of public decency. Others probably wondered if there were hidden cameras observing the twenty-two year old woman walking around in sleepwear from the top of the surrounding buildings or from behind the billboard signs as some sort of 'candid camera' stunt. Monica herself was bewildered, alone in an alien country with no means of getting home. She had no idea what was happening.

Then through the confusion came a sound, like a distant echo in the back of her mind. One that got progressively louder as she honed in on it, until finally the words were clear.

"Etse Lilitu sha'am. Ye eni ye enis." Over and over again, like a mantra, someone calling upon her, drawing her closer. She found her feet move and she started to walk, as if following the direction of the voice. She had a clear image of where she was going, she needed to get to Hyde Park. She had no idea where Hyde Park was, but she knew it was her final destination, and she knew her feet would see her there.

The night breeze rustled her thin garment and made her curly shoulder length ash-blonde hair whip lazily around her face. She shivered, and became aware of footsteps following behind her, walking at the exact same pace as her, walking with her, but when she turned around there was nothing but the usual London folk walking about. Nothing out of the ordinary. She continued following the voice. She was being led to a field, an open lot on Albion street.

She had never been to London. She had never left South Africa in her entire life, didn't even have a passport but she knew the street name, the neighborhood to where she was headed and exactly how long it would take for her to get there. What she still didn't know was why she was in London, and more importantly, what she was heading towards. Despite all this, she wasn't afraid of what she was going to find. If anything, it was the opposite. A sense of calmness surrounded her, a serenity she had not often felt through her short but difficult life.

When she arrived after a walk that felt a lot shorter than it was, she arrived at the empty lot. There was nothing, just flat earth in an otherwise wealthy neighborhood. It was a bit odd, she thought to herself, but her thoughts were interrupted by a thick voice from behind her.

"Welcome, sister."

She turned to find two women dressed in black cloaks and little else standing so closely behind her they might as well have been carrying her. Or perhaps pushing her.

"Who are you people? What is happening to me?"

The woman to the left spoke, her face obscured by a hood, her voice mature and giving off the impression of a refined british lady well beyond forty.

"One question at a time, sister. We are here to show you the way. The other two answers you will learn in time."

Monica noticed the bare skin of cleavage beneath the slit of the woman's cloak, opening and closing slightly with the soft breeze. Neither of the two women were wearing shoes, but their feet appeared to be unsoiled by the dirty ground they stood on. The other woman spoke, her voice youthful, it's tone high and surprisingly innocent in contrast, perhaps from New Zealand?

"You have nothing to fear from us. You came here because you belong here, you belong with us."

Monica shook her head, disbelieving.

"I'm dreaming, this is a very very vivid dream, but that has to be the only explanation. This isn't rational."

"And what is rationality, if not denial of the things that we cannot understand? What is happening to you right now goes beyond rationality. Look inside yourself. Are you real because you exist, or do you exist because you are real?" The younger woman said, and pulled back her hood to reveal her face. She was beautiful. Her fiery red hair tied in a thick bun behind her head. Her green eyes were piercing, warm and cold, innocent and dangerous all at the same time. The kind of person who was peaceful by nature, but not to be trifled with.

The older woman followed suit, lifting her hood to reveal the signs of middle-age, wrinkles creased her forehead and laugh-lines were prominent around her eyes and mouth. Light brown curls cut pixie style. It didn't suit her, Monica thought. Her eyes were also green, but a much duller shade. And Monica couldn't see anything in those eyes but remorse and sorrow. It was her that first spoke when they revealed themselves a few seconds ago. Something bothered Monica about her appearance. The way she had seemed to age, it was as if her face took the brunt of it, while her body remained young.

"You have come, as was always meant, young sister. My time has passed as you may have noticed, you can see that my sister and I are not cut from the same cloth anymore. You are to replace me, and I accept that."

Monica was confused even more than a few moments ago. "I still don't understand. Who are you people?"

The younger one laughed sweetly, and reached out to her.

"Take my hand. I'll show you."

Monica stared intently at the woman who she guessed was more or less her age. Part of her job was picking up vibes from people, and she couldn't sense anything but sincerity in the gesture. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out and took her hand. She was made to turn around back to the empty lot, only then it wasn't empty anymore. She didn't know much about architecture, but she knew enough to know that it was a very old three-story Victorian mansion, which was clearly well maintained. Had the night not already been incredibly strange, she would have been shocked, but it was just another oddity to add to the list. Instead she followed the young woman's lead toward the house, hand in hand.

She was led to the large double front doors, which opened on their own as they drew near. Before entering, she turned her head back and noticed that the older woman wasn't with them anymore. Disappeared into the night as if she had never been there.

"Monica."

She responded to her name by looking at the remaining woman still holding her hand. Of course she knew her name.

"Welcome to the Demimonde, dear sister."

As Monica entered, she was in awe of the beautiful, gothic interior. Candles littered almost every horizontal surface, deeming the warm light emanating from the wall lights and chandelier unnecessary but not entirely unwelcome. A large flight of stairs sat in the center of the foyer, leading up to the second floor on both sides. Monica was beckoned to keep up, the mystery woman not slowing down for her to admire everything.

She was led up the stairs and through another large set of doors ahead, into a room illuminated only by candlelight and a roaring fireplace. In the back of the room she noticed a large throne, and the woman who sat on it. She was no more than thirty, her hair dark as night, thick and wavey, loosely hanging untied all the way down to her chest. She wasn't wearing a cloak but instead a lengthy red velveteen robe that covered her and most of the throne. Her eyes were closed, her glossy lips moving as if in prayer. The crackling flames of the fireplace made it seem as if the robe she was wearing was made of fire and had a life of its own. They approached her, moving slower than before, as if treading on sacred ground, and then Monica heard her words.

"Etse Monica sha'am. Ye eni ye enis."

The moment the words were spoken, the woman on the throne opened her eyes. Her green, haunting, seductive, terrifyingly beautiful eyes.

"Monica. Suster. Dogter."

Instinctively, Monica kneeled before her, kissing her robe, and then she knew her name as if she had always known it. She bowed her head, and whispered as she shed a tear in awe of the woman from her dreams, the witch queen. 

"Moeder. Vanessa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets better, trust me.


	2. Oog van die storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast in the Demimonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit this chapter is a pretty radical 180 from the last one, but there is a good reason for it.

When she awoke, Monica wasn't in her own bed. She was laying on top of a sizeable, delightfully soft bed in an equally sizeable room, the silky linen sheets pressed against her bare breasts as she lifted her head to observe her surroundings. She couldn't see much but the light from the hallway seeping through the crack of the door in the otherwise dark room. The memory of the previous night was fresh in her mind. Couldn't have been a dream, she thought. She remembered the soft velveteen on her lips, the warm hand on her shoulder. The soft mouth on her temple as Vanessa kissed her goodnight, and a life flashing before her eyes. She couldn't remember anything but she was certain of one thing. They weren't her memories, they were flashes of another life. She fell asleep almost immediately after.

As she moved to get up, a crack came from behind her, and the room was bathed in brightness. Large light-tight curtains had pulled open on their own as if by magic as she arose, letting the warm morning sunlight into the room.

It became clear to her that she was still in the mansion. The night before had not been a dream. Her mundane, thankless life was not waiting for her behind the bedroom door. Instead, she had a whole world of opportunity and possibilities waiting to embrace her. Vanessa was a stranger to her, but she knew that they had met before countless times, just not in the physical realm. She needed to remember, to speak to the enigmatic queen again.

She was dressed a few moments later, hastily putting on the snowy-white cotton dress left on the dresser stool. She noticed that her provided attire wasn't accompanied by shoes. She looked in the dresser mirror, her hair and makeup was perfectly teased and applied, as if she had only done it herself a second ago. Amazing, she thought. How many more unusual surprises could there be in store for her?

She left the room briskly, finding herself in a long spacious corridor, to the right she could see the top of the stairs that led down to the front door, and to the throne room. As she neared the stairs, the redhead from the previous night came up and around the corner. Her hair was different, cut shorter and tied in a small ponytail that looked like an actual bushy cat's tail protruding from the right side of her head. She greeted Monica with a radiant smile. She was dressed in a small, tight white top and a short white skirt.

"And good morning! I was just coming to check on you, right on schedule!" Her voice was even higher pitched than the previous night, establishing a whimsical air about her. "C'mon, everyone's waiting, breakfast! Most important meal of the day!" And with that, she skipped down the stairs, skirt bouncing with every lift of her slender legs.

Monica followed her down, past the stairs and to the rear end of the mansion, where she exited upon a small outdoor dining table, occupied by Vanessa and another woman. It would have been a perfectly normal setting for breakfast, had the dining table not been suspended on water. Yet that wasn't the best part. As far as the eye could see from where Monica stood, clear blue sea, it seemed as if the entire mansion was right in the center of a tropical ocean. The water was still and almost solid, it's liquidity betrayed only by the ripples created by the redhead as she skipped over the water and toward one of two open chairs at the table.

"Monica, please join us. The view only improves while seated." Vanessa beckoned with a warm grin that carried every ounce of enigma it had the night before. The woman who sat next to her was a brunette, fringe covering her forehead and almost hanging over her eyes, and thick straight hair falling over her shoulders and disappearing behind her. Her Japanese heritage was apparent. She was dressed in white jean shorts and a white tank top. Monica guessed her age to be mid twenties. Vanessa herself was also dressed entirely in white, body length leather overcoat worn over a silk dress. They were all barefoot, just as Monica was.

She approached the table, stopping where solid ground gave way to water, testing the firmness of it with one foot, feeling the cool solid liquid beneath her. She put one foot before the other, giggling at the wonder of it, like the day she first discovered she could lift small objects with her mind if she concentrated hard enough. Had her eyes been closed, she guessed she would have mistaken the water for a tiled floor, had the tiled floor vibrated gently with each step. When she reached the table, she took the seat reserved only for her, right across from Vanessa.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" the redhead chirped next to her.

"Amy has been with us for only a few weeks." Vanessa explained to Monica. "The Demimonde is still new to her as well. It holds many wonders, this is but one of them."

"This... is all the mansion?" Monica gasped.

Vanessa laughed quietly.

"It's not a mansion." The japanese woman spoke in a thick american accent, her gaze was icy, she wasn't as welcoming as Vanessa and Amy. Monica picked up a hint of distrust from her.

"What Alice so bluntly tried to communicate is that this is more than a mansion." Amy said, rolling her eyes at Alice. "It's more of a different dimension, for lack of a better word. Vanessa?"

Winking at Amy, Vanessa continued. "What you see all around you, the ocean, the mansion, even this table, the chair beneath you, is part of the Demimonde. Where everything and anything you could imagine, can be called forth by the simple force of your will."

"Well, not just yet. It takes a while to learn to use your will." Amy interrupted.

Vanessa stared at Monica for a moment, a knowing glint in her eye, an acknowledgment of the power already manifested in her. Instead of revealing it to the others, she picked up the napkin in front of her, placed it in the palm of her hand and lifted it in front of her face. She dropped her hand back to her lap to join the other, and the napkin stayed suspended in mid-air. She nodded at Monica, silently asking her to repeat the action.

Monica followed suit, held her napkin up on her flattened palm and focused all of her attention onto it. Before long, it was moving through the air over the dining table, as if it were dancing with an invisible partner.

"Get out!" Amy giggled loudly, following the napkin as it spun and danced past her and then back towards Monica, where it finally rested right where she picked it up, folded perfectly in place.

Vanessa blinked in appreciation at her new protege, and then picked up her napkin again, before placing it neatly in her lap. "You must be hungry. I imagine your journey was quite arduous." She looked down at the large silver tray in the middle of the table, and casually removed the lid. A wide assortment consisting of vanilla coffee bread, sweet banana parfaits, bacon and cheese hash browns, chicken and mushroom quiche and shrimp omelets littered the platter and Monica's mouth positively watered at the sight of so much delicious looking (and smelling) food.

"Help yourselves, my darlings." Vanessa sat back and let the girls pick and choose from the assorted delicacies she had presented to them. When they had finished filling their plates, she at last helped herself. There was still plenty left for seconds and thirds.

As they ate, Monica began thinking of numerous questions she had been meaning to ask Vanessa, and Vanessa sensed it, answering the one that was currently toiling in her mind in order to break the ice. 

"It was your television. It's a silly notion, I am aware of that, but there it is. When you went to sleep, it carried you through to the Piccadilly cinema screen. It never fails to surprise me how many people see a television screen as nothing but a device that shows the world through the lens of a camera, when in fact, cameras in themselves have been known throughout the centuries to capture the essence of the human spirit within one single photograph. It is admittedly a very small piece, but I once knew someone when I was young. Someone who held his entire soul within a portrait. A portrait painted by a human hand, no less. Imagine for a second what could be accomplished with a lens. Not just a likeness, but an exact likeness. A copy, if you will. Somebody once said that the larger the amount of pictures exist with you in them, the more prominent your immortality becomes. Part of you lives on in every picture of you. After all, what remains after death but a memory?"

Monica was silent, pensive. She took a bite of her vanilla coffee bread, and poured herself a glass of milk from the jug. She took a sip and swallowed it down with the food. Then finally, she asked, "Am I really here right now."

"You are. In all ways possible."

"Will I ever go back?"

"That is entirely up to you, but I think you will find that the life you have will seem dull in comparison to what you may find here. I know well the struggled you've endured. The unfortunate loss of every paternal figure you have ever had... it is a pain I cannot imagine, but it has guided you. Your independence and your ability to sense the good and evil in any individual has molded you into the fine young woman you are today. An incredibly strong woman, but that strength is also a beacon. There are things lurking in the shadows. Evils that will hunt you relentlessly. Only with us will you find a safe haven."

"You'd be a fool. Or so the story goes." Alice said apathetically, using her fork to poke at a half eaten quiche on her plate.

"Don't mind her. After Cathy, she has been a little skeptic of new faces. Isn't that right, Alice?" Amy quipped.

Is that the woman who was with her last night? Monica thought.

"Indeed it was." came Vanessa's voice in her mind. "All in good time, right now, that scar is still deep and raw, best we discuss it in private later." Monica glimpsed at Vanessa while Amy was speaking, nodding just barely, surprised by the telepathic link between them.

"...and it's not all smiles and sunshines, but we protect each other, that's what we do." Amy finished.

"And do we tell her the nasty shit now, or later? Wouldn't want her running off before she could even conjure up a little chameleon spell." Alice snarked.

"Alice, what is your problem?! You're scaring her." Amy snapped back.

"Ladies. Enough." Vanessa calmly asked.

"That's right, why don't we tell her now. Tell her just what kind of world she's stepped into. All this, this calm hippy bullshit, we all know this is only half the day. What happens when night falls? When we have to become the evil so we can fight the evil. How long until another one of us loses our libra? What if it's her?" She pointed at Monica. "These insipid daytime activities that makes everything seem so nice and peaceful, it's all a fucking lie! We are all doomed for the dark eventually. I wish we could just stop pretending that any of this wins us back the small pieces of our humanity we lose every time we have to go darkside for results. It couldn't save Cathy, and it won't save any of us either. I'm so fucking sick of lying to myself about it." Alice started seething, her voice shaking in anger.

Amy went for the tough love approach. "How can you say that? Cathy came back to us eventually?! Just because of what happened you're going to go on as if none of what we do matters? What we do is hard, Alice, it's hard. But we must! We must walk that tightrope. Don't you care about us? We're your family!"

"Don't be naiive, Amy, and don't you dare speak about Cathy like you knew her. How long have you been here? Five weeks? Look at my face. That's right. Take a good, hard look! This is the face of someone who's seen everything this petty war has to offer. You don't know shit!"

"I said ENOUGH!" Vanessa spoke, slamming her fist down on the table, her words booming and echoing around them, all trace of warmth and kindness gone from her voice. The table shook as the water they were suspended on started rolling and they were tilted up and down in their chairs. Thunder boomed as dark clouds formed above them, a crash of lightning nearly deafened Monica, and she covered her ears. Just as soon as it had started, the storm died down, and the water became calm again. It was as if nothing had happened, save for some of the leftover food on the tray that had been ruined by crashing into another sort. The milk inside the jug sloshed back and forth, still calming from the momentary storm. Something caught Monica's eye. Where Vanessa had slammed her fist down, her hand was now lax and open, and she thought she spied a strange symbol on the queen's hand. Like a brand, in the shape of a scorpion.

All was silent, Amy's chest moved rapidly with shallow, frightened breaths. Alice stared down at her plate, her expression anguished and sorrowful. And Vanessa. The Matriarch who had just shown her deepest, darkest colors. Monica realized that not only was she in awe of her, felt a fierce, unexplainable loyalty to her, but now she was also deeply frightened of the kind, gentle mentor who could flip the switch and become a terrifyingly dangerous force in an instant. 

After a silence that felt unbearably long, Alice rose up and tossed her napkin into her plate filled with half eaten foods. She moved around the table, stopping for a moment to speak to Vanessa, quietly, respectfully. "This girl shouldn't feel safe here. I don't even feel safe here. What we do isn't safe. We walk a dangerous line. You serve to remind us of that constantly, just like you did only a minute ago. We know it, and now she does too." She looked to Amy, as if to apologize silently, and then left through the door.

Vanessa took a moment to collect herself, breathing a big sigh of remorse and covered her eyes with her hand. "Amy, please leave us."

Amy didn't wait to be asked twice and soon, only Vanessa and Monica remained at the table. Their eyes met and Monica could sense the deep regret at the events she were made to witness.

"I'm terribly sorry, I hadn't meant for you to see that side of me this early, but I suppose we should talk about what just happened. You know why you are here, you know of your past. Last night I gave you a glimpse of mine, but I fear that by the time you have unlocked only half of what I showed you by yourself, you would have fled in fear of me. If not home, then straight into the arms of the enemy. So if you would allow it, I would like to walk you through the memory, of how all this began, and also explain the reason why you are here."

Monica didn't answer, but solemnly nodded, and joined Vanessa as she rose from her seat, and walked out to the open water. As she followed closely behind the queen, they were suddenly transported through time and standing in front of a dark mansion, smaller in size but not unlike the one they were situated in. Only this one was on fire. A curly haired woman came walking out from the burning building, square kit carried beneath her arm, her facial expression carrying a calm menace.

Monica and Vanessa watched silently as the woman kept walking, until she disappeared into the dark woods surrounding them.

"Who was that?" Monica enquired with a whisper.

Vanessa paused slightly before answering. "My nemesis. Her name is Hecate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one will be mostly an exposition of how Vanessa came to lead her own coven and the fate of every other character from the end of season 2. Comments and kudos are love.


	3. Verlore, Nooit Vergete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa leads Monica through the past to discover forgotten truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter, because every good story needs one.

Hand in hand, Vanessa led Monica through the past. Together they observed the shattered fetish that Lucifer had possessed in an attempt to seduce Vanessa, hundreds of scorpions pouring from the dark hole that was once its face. Evelyn Poole's withered corpse lay face down on the ground a few feet away.

"Her vanity was her undoing. She served the Fallen angel, and this is how she was repaid. An unnecessary evil. Such a high price for such a fleeting reward."

Monica turned to face her. "Do you cut open babies too, because I don't think I could go along with that."

"We do not prey on the innocent. Evelyn used infant entrails because she had no patience for effort and an utter lack of conscience. Animal hearts work just as well, albeit requiring a lot more finesse to administer."

"So you make make voodoo dolls too? Torture people?"

"Only if they deserve it." Her words were cold and clinical, without a hint of remorse. "More often than not we are doing the world a favor."

"And when you're not?"

"Then that sin is mine to bear. I take full responsibility for my actions and those of my coven. Which you are now a part of, whether you choose to be or not."

"So, during the day, the white clothing, that's all symbolic, isn't it? Like the yin and yang thing? And when I arrived at night everyone was dressed in black. Except you, you wore red."

"Red represents the blood that has accumulated on my hands and the hands of the women in my coven through the years."

Monica walked toward the empty void peering out from the fetish doll and stared deep into it.

"Why was he after you so badly?"

"He needed a queen in order to become king. A spoiled child attempting to overthrow his father by marrying himself to a power he couldn't even begin to grasp. He's paying for that mistake."

Monica peered over her shoulder to where Vanessa was standing idly, a chilling smile spread across her lips. "Who...are you?"

Vanessa's smile faded and was replaced by a sombre expression. "I am called by many names throughout time. The egyptians refer to me as Amunet or Bastet. The Hindu's named me Yama. The Norse refer to me as Freyja. However the most popular belief, and the most accurate is that I was the First sinner. Lilith, or Eve, if you wish to believe the biblical depiction of a man and a woman in a beautiful garden and the deceitful serpent, however things are hardly that simplistic or romantic."

Monica turned back to face the void, but it was gone, replaced by Vanessa holding a woman in her arms, her body pale and rigid, dead. She moved closer cautiously and realized she recognized the woman. It was Cathy, only she was much younger. Monica's age possibly. Her neck had been broken, the fractured bone causing a gruesome lump below her jawline. Vanessa looked up at Monica.

"She was the first to join my coven, my only friend during the darkest moments of my life. Hecate murdered her for being just that. It was her that convinced me to form a coven of my own. She was willing to pay any price to stop our enemy."

She stared down at Cathy, running a tentative hand through her hair and bent down to whisper a prayer into her ear. Cathy's eyes flew open, and the jutting bone in her neck snapped back into place, a loud gasp escaping her gaping mouth. Suddenly, she was gone.

Vanessa was now holding a lifeless infant in her arms. A gentle kiss pressed to it's temple before she laid it down, shedding a tear. Monica felt a hand on her shoulder, and spun around.

Before her was a new sight, a familiar older gentleman being led into a dark quiet corner in the back of an empty bar by a scantily clad young raven haired woman. Vanessa walked after them, and Monica followed suit. "This was the man I had long ago accepted as a father. We faced many a peril together in my days as a mortal." The woman forcefully pushed the older gentleman down into the leather seat below and straddled him, trailing kisses down his bearded neck and ripping his shirt open, sending buttons flying and exposing his hairy chest.

"Lucy. Please, stop." he said, but the woman ignored his plea. She gripped his nipples, pinching them between her fingers as she assaulted his neck with her tongue, leaving wet spots as his eyes rolled back. He wasn't responding to or rejecting her attention, hands dangling at his sides, his body heavy and limp, save for the bulge in his pants. She proceeded to remove them, his thick erection springing free. She hiked her short dress up, gripped his member with one hand and promptly mounted him. She growled and a gutteral keening noise sounded from her as she rode him, and then Monica noticed the fangs, scraping at the bare skin of his throat, and then they were inside him, mouth closing on his flesh and sucking, color draining from his face.

"Irony is a cruel jester." Vanessa remarked, a tinge of sadness is her voice. "He met his end at the hands of the same darkness that stole his daughter." She approached him and with his dying breath, Malcolm whispered to her. "Vanessa... Mina."

She drew her fingers over his eyelids, closing them, then turned from him and the vampire still steadily exsanguinating him, still raping him. She beckoned Monica to follow her through the bar exit.

They entered a laboratory of sorts, a woman with blond curly hair not unlike Monica's laying on top of a table, legs spread wide and screaming in ecstasy. She was giving birth, and she was immensely enjoying the pain of the experience. Two men were with her, completely opposite in appearance.

One was plainly dressed and sat between her legs, hands feverishly working, urging the child to be born. Fear and disgust radiated from him. His rolled up sleeves exposed the evidence of heavy drug abuse. The other was refined and well dressed, holding the woman's hand, his excitement and arousal apparent. Monica instantly felt repelled by him.

"This was the birthing of the supposed master race. A foolish and lonely man's final result at playing god. Victor tried proving that there is life beyond death, and he found his proof." She stared at Dorian, a rage burning in her voice as she spoke of him. "My soul was nearly lost to Dorian. He was charming, magnetic and a kindred spirit in a sea of scowling faces. Had I known then what I know today, that he is perhaps the greatest monster I have ever known."

And finally her gaze fell upon the laboring woman. "Brona. Or Lily as she begun referring to herself after her rebirth. The evidence of the incredible misery that can be brought forth from one scorned woman given a second chance. I would never make that mistake. She should have been left to the arms of God."

Monica witnessed as Lily gave one final scream of pleasure and then utter silence befell the room. Victor held a stillborn child in his hands, unspeakable terror in his eyes. Dorian's face was a bundle of silent fury and Lily screamed once more. Only this time, it was the scream of a mother's grief.

An angry electrical sound came from behind Monica, but Vanessa gripped her by the arm, eyes begging her not to look to the sound. Instead they listened to the inhuman cry of a creature brought forth from the darkest watery depths to walk the earth. A hungry gurgle and suckling squelch accompanied the sound of a bullet being chambered and two discouraging voices begging Victor not to end his own life. Then the gunshot.

When Monica finally turned around, Vanessa stood next to a burning portrait. A haggard old man, body fraught with scars and buried under a pile of chains lay dead on the floor beside her. Vanessa turned, but it wasn't Vanessa anymore. Her eyes were blackened, all trace of color and white gone from them and Monica felt as if she was staring into the exact same void she had when she peered inside the fetish. The scorpion brand she saw on Vanessa's hand during breakfast was now prominently visible on her forehead. She walked away from the portrait, time slowing to a crawl, and then her gaze was on Monica. Monica's pounding heartbeat resounded in her ears. Vanessa's feet left the ground, levitating barely an inch above the hard floor. Her face contorted into a snarling scream and a shriek pierced the air as she closed the distance between them and wrapped her hands around Monica's throat.

Monica and Vanessa were plunged into dark waters. Monica thought she heard the sound of a metal gate closing somewhere far away and an angry animal howling. She held onto Vanessa as they swam up, breaching the surface. It was as dark above as it was below, stars barely visible behind thick clouds. They spotted a beach in the distance and proceeded toward it, reaching shore moments later. As soon as they were on solid ground, they were dry as though they had never touched water. A small african village illuminated by a burning campfire appeared before them, and they saw no choice but to approach.

"What was that back there? What happened to you. And how did that version of you see me and... touch me? Why were you trying to kill me?" Monica asked as they walked.

"On that day I became immortal and omniscient. A goddess walking the earth, if you wish to sound theatrical. With it came a terrible price, I lost all humanity. My only desire was annihilation and oblivion. Had I not returned to my senses..."

"Could it happen again?"

Vanessa didn't answer, instead continuing toward the village. Monica felt a chill run down her spine at the thought that her queen could be a walking timebomb. She had seen the worst case scenario and the thought that Vanessa could succumb to that side of herself again frightened her beyond compare.

When they reached the lit area, Monica noticed a large, scarred man sitting by the bonfire, his yellow eyes dull in contrast to the red fire before him. Vanessa sat down next to him, her hands closing over his. He turned, smiled at her shyly, betraying a hint of beauty behind his beastly appearance.

"Thank you for saving me." she said quietly. "You pulled me from the grip of my own deepest dark. When all was lost, you reached out and brought me back."

"This man is more than a man." Vanessa said to Monica, standing beside her again. "We once found solace in the words spoken between us. We walked alone, yet had I not refused to walk with him in his solitude, events would have unfolded much differently. I would have died a mortal woman long, long ago. In all of his pain, mister Clare was willing to carry mine. Not many can boast such selflessness. All he ever wanted was simply to be loved."

The sound of two men struggling next to her caught Monica's attention. In the darkness she barely realized that one was caucasian and the other african. The african man grabbed the caucasian by the throat and lifted him high, a choking plea sounding out. "Sembene, it's me, Ethan! Your friend!"

The man named Sembene was completely nude, and Monica sensed only an empty vessel filled by a cruel imitation of life. He didn't recognize Ethan, nor did his grip on Ethan's neck falter. It only grew tighter, Ethan snarling suddenly but to no avail. His hands dug into Sembene's arm like claws, or perhaps actual claws, if the low light wasn't deceiving Monica. She could hear the bones in his neck strain with the immense pressure.

Then Sembene was flung to the ground, as if knocked aside by a wrecking ball. Ethan fell to the ground with a thud, coughing and wheezing as his lungs filled with hot summer air. An arm extended to him from the surrounding darkness, and he grabbed hold of it. As Ethan was finding his feet, Sembene braced himself up, not a gasp or a strain as he soon stood tall again.

He was tackled once more, the man known as mister Clare ramming his shoulder into Sembene's stomach, sending him flying back once more. Almost as soon as he fell, he was up again, like an unstoppable force of nature.

"We can't stop him! Follow me!" Ethan cried out to the man who came to his rescue. Mister Clare gave Sembene one final powerful shove as he joined Ethan and they took off, disappearing into the shadows.

Vanessa watched as Sembene rose up once more, relentless in his pursuit of Ethan. "Necromancy is a craft not to be taken lightly. It's subjects oft turn on those they had cared about in life, fueled by a single-minded desire to end their existence. Sir Malcolm understood that. To this day, I refuse to accept he could condone this. He was a flawed man, as we all are, but this borders on delusional madness."

The two women continued their journey through memory, following in the direction that Ethan, John and Sembene took. Dawn came in the blink of an eye, drops of rain drizzled down from a clear sky. They happened upon a lone grave in an open field. Vanessa kneeled before it, Monica read the inscription: Victor Frankenstein. Survived by none. The date of birth and death wasn't included on the tombstone.

When she backed away, Monica noticed a small, stocky man with a rather flamboyant wig sniffing loudly beside her, reaching for a handkerchief from his side pocket and patting beneath his eyes to dry his tears. "Oh my dear boy, you were such a strapper. I should have planted a big sloppy one on you when I had the chance." He repeated his sniffing and patting at least two more times, before walking off.

As they followed, Vanessa informed Monica of mister Lyle. "He went on to establish one of the greatest centers for paranormal study, which is still in operation today. Even after several threatening letters from the Illuminati, Lyle never stopped poking and prodding. Until his disappearance, that is. The Illuminati make good on their threats, unfortunately. Even so, his name has remained greatly respected in any and every occultist circle."

The drizzling rain that pattered down gently on them suddenly began pouring down, obscuring mister Lyle and blurring Monica's vision. She raised her hand to cover her eyes, and found herself in front of a small countryside hotel, the 'vacant' sign blinking colorfully and acting as a beacon. Monica noticed Vanessa wasn't with her anymore, but the front door stood wide open. She ran towards the welcoming shelter, closing the door behind her.

She proceeded up a small flight of stairs to the second floor, following her instincts to room number 6. She heard more pouring water coming from the bathroom as she entered, thin steam curling like smoke from the shower. She went closer, and saw Vanessa standing in the shower with a familiar face. They were embracing.

Ethan was hugging Vanessa close to his bare body, her face buried in his chest, their arms tightly enfolding one another. Water from the shower head danced over their skin, creating liniar patterns. He was singing to her, off key and hoarse, but Monica felt shattered by the pain in his voice.

(*)"There's a fire in the sky, and I know it's you. There's a light that's so bright, and I know it's you. And I dream like you. And I believe in truth. For I was always there. I will always be there."

She held tightly to him, hands on his back trying to find purchase as sobs shook her body. Ethan caressed her hair as she cried, fighting back tears himself, his brow tightening as he struggled to remain strong for her. He pressed a lasting kiss to her crown, and continued humming softly to her. She brought her face up from his chest and leveled with him. They searched each others eyes for the longest time, and then they kissed. Ever so softly. When their lips parted, his hand guided her head to his shoulder and she rested it there.

"It's not your fault." he whispered to her. "It's not your fault."

Monica felt herself shed a tear, deja vu creeping over her like a familiar face she no longer recognized. She left the bathroom where Ethan and Vanessa stood comforting each other, and walked back to the door. It swung open, and she walked back outside. And into her childhood home.

She walked down the narrow hallway, knowing where she needed to go. She headed into her parent's room where her mother lay dead in a large pool of blood, stab wounds covering her torso. Next to her, the lifeless body of a little blond girl, also victim to a knife.

"You remember now." Vanessa came from behind her, approaching the scene.

"Yes." She watched as Vanessa kneeled next to the little girl's body. "Mom didn't die alone that day."

A kiss pressed against her forehead and then lips to little Monica's ear, Vanessa recited her prayer of resurrection, and watched as small, glassy eyes filled with life once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This dish is for you, scorpionmother. Put some extra V/E in just for you (coz I know it's your favorite ingredient).
> 
> (*) Song credit: Anathema - Internal Landscapes


	4. Garings van Menslikheid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls enjoy a night out, but events take a sinister turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get hairy...

Night fell swiftly upon London and upon the Demimonde. Inside, a low booming sound echoed repeatedly, emanating from the great hall in the right wing of the building. Monica and Vanessa had just returned from their journey to the past, Monica dressed accordingly in a leathery black dress and Vanessa in her red velveteen robe, as the night demanded.

The moment they stepped back into the present, they were greeted by the relentless booming sounds coming from the side door in the vestibule.

"I think there's something you need to see." Vanessa remarked, a grave note to her voice, as she led Monica toward the door. Monica worried that something horrible was waiting beyond, a terrible chained beast banging against the walls, over and over, struggling furiously to be free.

A much different sight greeted her when she entered. Multi-colored strobe lights illuminated the large dance floor. Fast, energetic music blasted from the speakers. There were at least a hundred people, moving in tandem with the beat of the bass, lights flashing over them and making it seem as if they were appearing and disappearing into the otherwise dark room. A savage energy filled the room. The DJ in his booth held one hand up in the air, spinning the record with the other, the crowd roaring with abandon, the burdens of their lives forgotten for the moment.

A waitress approached, two Cosmopolitans and two Caipirinhas on the tray she held on the palm of her hand. "Pick your poison!" she shouted, voice barely audible above the roaring music. Vanessa nodded in approval, taking a Cosmo from the tray herself, the red of the liquid almost matching the hue of her robe. Monica took the last Cosmo, and clinked her glass to Vanessa's before they proceeded down the steps leading to the dance floor.

"There are so many people, are they all really here?" She asked Vanessa telepathically, as she had at breakfast that morning.

"It is not just people, everything you see here is happening outside of the Demimonde, somewhere in the world. The invisible line between them and us is the door we came in through. The girls felt like a night out, so they brought the party to them, it seems."

"We're not allowed out? To a real club?"

"Of course you are, but you can't do this outside of our home." she said, lifting her hand and igniting the floor in blue fire with a simple wave. Monica screamed, thinking that Vanessa intended to burn everyone alive, but instead she noticed the crowd rejoicing, dancing over the flames as if they were some sort of holographic projection. She smiled a sigh of relief and noticed Amy and Alice dancing together down below. They looked absolutely stunning in their black attire, their seductive movements attracting attention from the men dancing close to them.

"Looks like they made up." Monica noted.

"And the world adores them for it." Vanessa agreed.

"So, how about we attract a little attention of our own?" She turned back around toward Vanessa. "Dance with me."

"You are aware that my days as a youth are far behind me?"

"They don't have to be. Besides, correct me if I'm wrong but aren't you swimming in the fountain of youth?"

Vanessa glared at her, a shy smile spread across her lips, and she playfully sneered at Monica. She gulped down the rest of her Cosmo, and set the empty glass down on a nearby table.

"Let's get you into something a bit more comfy first." Monica communicated.

"No need." Vanessa held out her arm and her robe started shifting around it, moving over her, shrinking appropriately to leave one shoulder exposed and wrapping tightly around the other. It hiked up from the floor, tightening around her middle and settling just above her knees. She spun around once, showing off to Monica. She may has well have been dressed for a catwalk. "Good enough?"

Monica stared at her, jaw slack at the beautiful dress. "I am so jealous right now." She thought. "C'mon, we got some dancin' to do." She finished her drink and set the glass down. She took Vanessa's hand and led her onto the dance floor.

Vanessa was awkward at first, looking about her in uncertainty, as if she suspected everyone in the crowd of scrutinizing her every more. She bobbed her head nervously, knees bending as she slightly bounced her body up and down. Monica giggled at her effort, and drew her closer. Vanessa's eyes grew wide and she smiled her brightest smile yet. Monica steered her movements, their hips swaying left to right, shoulders rolling as if swept up by the waves of sound, feet tapping the ground with every thump of the bass.

Soon, Vanessa was moving on her own, gracefully dancing, pulling the pin from her hair and shook her head to let them down, running her hands through them. Euphoria overtook her and she threw her arms in the air. Monica was in awe of her magnetic dance, as were the men (and some ladies) around them.

A few feet away, Alice was dancing on her own, observing Vanessa, then nodded at Monica with an impressed grin. Amy was dancing with a very drunk man of about twenty years old. He was getting a little too frisky, and she rolled her eyes at his shameless advances. She shoved him and he fell down flat on his behind. She clapped her hands together twice as if she were dusting them off after handling something filthy.

Monica laughed and closed her eyes, losing herself to the music. She felt it pulse through her, every nerve in her body tingling with the vibrations. The voice of the woman providing vocals for the song they were dancing to blared in her ears, and she loved it. It made her feel alive, being lost to the sensations surrounding her. Flames licked at her bare feet, sending warmth coursing up her legs.

The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was Vanessa's shocked expression, her eyes fixed in the direction of the vestibule door. Monica turned to where she was staring, but couldn't determine the source that held her attention.

Before Monica could ask what she was seeing, Vanessa bolted across the dance floor, shoving people out of her way as she made for the door. Monica looked to Amy and Alice, who also noticed Vanessa's strange behavior. They followed Monica in pursuit of her, failing to notice someone else following them. 

They came through the door, Amy's drunk suitor right behind them. "What... where did the street go?" he slurred, swerving with each intoxicated step.

"The fuck, Amy?! You know we don't bring people over the line!" Alice shouted.

"I didn't! He must've followed us through. Ughhhh. I hate boys!"

"Christ. Just get rid of him! We'll find Vanessa."

Amy placed her hands on the young man's back, pushing him toward the front door to get him away from the mansion. "Off we go, you!" 

Monica and Alice headed up the stairs and into the throne room where they found Vanessa, pacing back and forth, mumbling to herself.

"He was here. It was him. He was here. I saw him."

"What happened?" Alice asked Monica.

"I don't know. We were dancing and then she saw something, but I didn't see anything."

Alice approached Vanessa, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Vanessa? What did you see?"

"He needs my help. He reached out to me. Still alive, he's still alive."

"Who's still alive?"

Vanessa paused to look at Alice, confusion in her eyes. Then her confusion turned into something else. Grim realization. "Oh god. Amy." She took off again, down the stairs and out the front door.

Alice and Monica followed her outside, running to keep up. They cut around a corner into a dark alley and were just in time to witness Amy hurl a bright red orb filled with swirling black energy at the young man she had been dragging to the bus stop. Her clothing was ripped, evidence of attempted sexual assault. The red orb enveloped her attacker, making a sharp whirring noise as darkness wrapped tightly around his body and with a loud imploding crack, it was gone. The young man fell to his knees, his body eroding into a dark grey smoke that was promptly swept away on a gust of wind.

They all stood frozen momentarily except for Vanessa, who approached Amy carefully, wrapping an arm around her, hand firmly on one shoulder. "Let's get you home." Amy's face was a blank slate. They walked her slowly back to the mansion.

Later that night, Vanessa was putting a traumatized Amy to bed, while Alice and Monica stood outside her door, discussing what had just happened.

"So this was the first time she killed someone?" Monica asked quietly.

"I don't think she meant for it to happen. If she did, she wouldn't be catatonic right now. Definitely an accident. I've never seen anybody use that kind of spell before though. It was like... I don't know... She threw death at him? Wish I could do that. Was fucking awesome, little shit deserved it."

Alice peeked through the crack in the door to Amy's room. Vanessa was smoothing her hair back, speaking softly to her. Amy just stared up at the ceiling, not responding.

"The first is always the worst, to take a life isn't as easy as everyone thinks it is. Something breaks inside you, everything you think you know of the world is not so simple anymore. You'll find out too, someday. Sooner rather than later." Alice explained.

Vanessa left the room, closing the door behind her carefully. She beckoned Monica and Alice to follow her as she headed back to the throne room.

She settled on her throne, her dress had reverted back to the robe she usually wore at night, and it seemed to be an even darker shade of red than before. Alice and Monica sat down on the two chairs that appeared before the throne, summoned by Vanessa's will.

No one spoke for the longest time, but Vanessa finally broke the silence in the room. "Who was it that sent Amy off alone with that boy?" Her voice was calm, her eyes betraying not a single hint of anger. "Monica?"

Before Monica could explain what happened, Alice spoke. "We were worried about you, and the boy was interested in her, so I let her..." Alice was quickly interrupted as Vanessa flew up from her throne and slapped her. Hard.

"You knew, didn't you?" Her voice was still calm, despite her violent gesture and the way she suddenly seemed to loom over them menacingly. "You knew that boy was going to attempt to rape her, and you knew she was going to defend herself. You PUSHED her into that situation, knowing full well that she was a virgin. Didn't you?"

Alice was speechless, her eyes round with shock from the slap.

"You were jealous of her, of the innocence you lost, even before we met. You couldn't stand to watch the light in her eyes when the light in yours ebbed away so long ago, when you were young, and you took the lives of others to make ends meet." Her voice grew louder, angry. "I saved you from that life, gave you a second chance! We have shared so much between us. You once told me that the burden of murder wasn't something you could wish on your worst enemy, but that was a lie! You want others to suffer that burden, as Amy is suffering right now. I cannot imagine that Monica is safe from your wrath either!"

"My wrath?" Alice defiantly replied. "With all due respect, my queen, I didn't ask to be ressurected, and I sure as hell didn't deserve it. I also don't think it's my wrath she has to worry about, nor what I'm capable of. This is all just about revenge to you, and the things you've done to get it make us look like the bad guys. Have you even told Monica about your pet yet, or were you softening her up first?"

A voice came from behind them. In the doorway stood a familiar, unwelcome face. "Why don't I tell her. While we're on the topic of pets, I have one of my own to show off." From behind Hecate moved an enormous black wolf, towering above her. The claws on its paws glinted in the candle light, crimson eyes glowed with fury. Its lips pulled back with a furious snarl, spittle dripping from its fangs. "The big bad wolf has been absolutely dying to meet all of you."

Monica and Alice jumped up from their chairs and glanced at each other in silent fear, and then to Vanessa. A tortured expression lined her features as she recognized the beast before her. A large tear rolled down her cheek, as she gasped its name. "Ethan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really gotta stop ending chapters with character names. Bum-bum-bum-buuuum! Maybe the "club" bit was a bit long-winded, but I really just wanted to let the girls have a little fun before turning their world upside down. And have an excuse to get Vanessa dancing to modern house/trance :D


	5. Skoothond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate shows her hand and Vanessa may be outplayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the narrative, I took the focus away from Monica and placed it more on Vanessa. That's me, rule breaker. Tried to fill in some plotholes, let me know if I missed something crucial and I'll attempt to update accordingly. There's still a good stretch of road ahead though.

An icy wind blew through the throne room, making the candles lining the walls flicker. Clad in a crimson blouse, black leggings, white gloves and a dark brown fedora, Hecate stood side by side with her giant guard dog, Ethan. Vanessa stared at the creature that was once the man she loved, but had now become an enormous black wolf, not a hint of recognition in its eyes, Hecate's corruption completely overruled any hint of humanity it might have had left.

"What has she done to you?" Vanessa asked. She hadn't seen or heard from Ethan ever since... that one cold November day in 1990. The day they buried a tiny body in the ground.

"He's just honoring the deal he made with me over a century ago. You didn't think I'd forget about that did you?" Hecate purred, stroking the hound's soft fur. "He's such a good kisser, especially now. That tongue of his, so very talented."

Vanessa pursed her lips in disgust. She felt the scorpion rising from beneath the skin on her palm, ready to use her immortal blood as a weapon against her nemesis.

Hecate noticed the familiar look in Vanessa's eyes, and raised her hand. "Ha ah ah. Not so fast. I am here to negotiate, not to fight. Besides, you attack me, Ethan attacks your girls, and we both know they're not as durable as you are. He might not be able to kill you, but they'll be dead before you can even lift a finger to help them."

"How did you get in? The Demimonde has been sealed to the likes of you." Vanessa sniped at her.

"Oh, I have my ways. Has time withered your memory so that you have forgotten how easily my sisters and I infiltrated your little circle back in the day? I had Ethan distract you, Warren distract Amy, and then Amy distract all of you. When the queen leaves her castle, the door remains open. It was astoundingly easy, really."

"Clever little bitch." Alice remarked.

"Ah, Alice. I'd be careful, taking that tone with someone who could have you ripped to shreds with a single word."

From the air around her hand, Alice willed a Drake shotgun to materialize and cocked it, holding it beside her.

"Isn't that charming. All this time under Vanessa's tutelage and you still need to rely on guns. Pathetic." Hecate mocked.

"We'll see how pathetic it is when I blow your pointy little tits off."

Hecate just scoffed at her, turning her attention to Monica.

"Fresh blond. How did she manage to keep you hidden from me for so long?"

"What do you want from us?" Monica stood her ground.

"From you?" She giggled menacingly. "I want nothing from you. I want something from my dear sister. Or rather the woman I once called sister." She approached Vanessa, one long-legged foot in front of the other, high heels clacking with every step. "I've missed you." She took Vanessa's face in her hands and kissed her deeply.

Alice raised her shotgun and pointed it at Hecate, to which she broke the kiss and stared down the barrel, uninterested.

"Did you want a kiss too? I've never had japanese before."

"How 'bout you kiss my balls."

"Modern humor. Women with male genitalia, such a laugh."

She faced Vanessa again. "You should really teach your girls some manners, I might just get excited and sic Ethan on them."

Vanessa breathed deeply. "Alice, put the gun down. She wants to talk, so let her talk."

Alice took a moment to comply with her queen's order, but finally lowered her shotgun.

"That's a good girl. Glad to see your girls have respect for you, as I once had." Hecate pulled a strand of hair from Vanessa's flustered face. "I wonder, do they even know how far back you and I go? All the things we did together. All those hot nights, fucking in the blood of those that opposed us." She swiped her tongue languidly over Vanessa's lips. "I can still taste it, the flavor of my juices on your lips. Don't you miss that? Don't you think Ethan would like to see that? To see his fair lady coming undone in my mouth?" She trailed her hand down over the robe, squeezing a breast in her hand, then trailed her hand down lower. "To see you writhing in pleasure on my fingers." Her hand went between Vanessa's legs.

Vanessa didn't move, but cringed at the sensation, her eyes looking past Hecate at the wolf glaring at them, not a hint of anything but pure rage in its eyes. Not a rage of jealousy or envy or pain, but an obedient rage, because it was commanded. She felt her despair growing at the utter control Hecate had over the situation, and over her. As deep as her hatred and disgust for the woman who was violating her ran through her veins, her love for her coven ran even deeper, and she would not recklessly put them in harms way. Ethan was a formidable threat to their lives.

"I think Ethan likes that, don't you think?" Hecate gloated, fingers prodding at Vanessa's tender skin. "Your girls, they can see how weak you are now, how powerless. Not like the power you had when we were together. The power you had when you killed Dorian. It's a shame you betrayed me, we could have ruled the world together."

From the corner of her eye, Vanessa noticed Monica walking toward the enormous wolf that growled viciously as she drew closer to it. "What are you doing?!" she tried to communicate to Monica, but she kept walking, moving closer to the wolf. And then her hand rested on its snout, to which it responded by nuzzling her gently. Vanessa immediately understood what had happened. Hecate noticed her distracted gaze, and turned to follow it.

A second later, she forcefully grabbed Monica's hand away from her thrall, and closed her hands around Monica's face, staring straight into her eyes for all of ten seconds. Then the screams came. She became hysterical, wailing in fear at what she witnessed in Hecate's eyes. Hecate released her hold on her and she fell to the floor, started crawling away in terror of the horrors she had been made to witness.

"Stupid little girl. You don't even know what you are, do you? Who you are? Now you will." 

Vanessa noticed the rage in the wolf's eyes were absent at the sight of a distressed Monica, and she seized the opportunity. She made a small incision in her palm with a hidden razor blade, and raised her hand, her blood pouring forth and bending to her will, creating a razor sharp whip. She lashed out swiftly, but before her blood could connect with flesh, Hecate burst into a large flock of crows.

"Oh, come the fuck on! Crows? Real original Hecate! Typical Hollywood bullshit!" Alice yelled at the sight of the flock that rematerialized into Hecate. She sicced the wolf on Alice, and it almost instantaneously cornered her, knocking her shotgun out of her hands as she raised it to defend herself. It snarled and snapped at her, its hot breath making her fringe sweep across her forehead like grass in the wind.

"Please stop!" Vanessa shouted from where she had knelt down next to Monica to calm her in a warm embrace, blood steadily oozing from the incision on her hand.

"You shouldn't have done that. I came here for one thing, but now I'll be asking for two. I want the Luciferian crystal, and I want Amy."

"Haven't you taken enough from us? You took Ethan, you took our child, but you're not taking the Luciferian crystal and you're most certainly not taking Amy!"

"Oh I will. Do your girls even know the truth about Cathy, what you did to her? What you did it just so you could capture the Fallen one?"

"Vanessa, what is this bitch talking about?" Alice stammered from where she was tightly pressed up against the wall, barely out of reach of the wolf's fangs.

Vanessa didn't answer, so instead Hecate continued, gleeful at the chance to elaborate on Vanessa's dark secret. "Your queen allowed sweet Cathy to kill Georgia. You remember Georgia, don't you, Alice? Amy's predecessor? That's right. She knew Cathy had gone darkside, but she didn't stop her, oh no. She allowed her to murder Georgia so she could maintain her possession, all just for the sake of completing the binding spell. The spell that bound Lucifer."

Alice bared her teeth, eyes wide with shock and disbelief as the pieces fell into place in her mind. "Vanessa. Tell me that's not true! Please tell me it's all a lie!"

Vanessa closed her eyes in shame, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rocked the now unconscious Monica in her arms.

"Oh cry, little cunt, cry. You disgust me." Hecate sneered. "Nothing can wash your hands clean of that. You sacrificed two of your own for your little spell to work. And you call me a monster."

Vanessa kept rocking back and forth, completely prostrated by Hecate's verbal assault.

Alice was silent from her corner in the room, hot breath like sulphur washing over her repeatedly, her brow fixed in a frown, unable to look at her defeated queen.

Hecate stood, arms crossed, glaring down in disdain at the woman who she once shared a coven and eternal life with. "You ever wonder why I took your child, Vanessa? Ever thought about what I did to her? Why that tiny little body I left in that cradle on your doorstep was so beautifully mutilated? Why Ethan disappeared soon after?"

Vanessa didn't respond, but stopped rocking. Her voice was cracked with hatred and emotional turmoil. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

Hecate stepped closer to her, until she was close enough to whisper. "I ripped out her little heart, and I suppose you can imagine what I'm using it for right now." She smiled wickedly and looked to the wolf where it held Alice firmly trapped. "After all, what is stronger than a father's love for his daughter?"

Vanessa leered up at her, shaking with silent fury.

"Now, I want what I came for. Give me the crystal. And give me Amy."

"Why Amy? She is only a girl."

"You're joking, yes? You know she is the first witch since Salem to have the gift of Necro. She used it again tonight."

"Again?" Alice whispered.

"Yes, that's right, this wasn't her first time. Just more lies Vanessa tells so all of you can sleep better at night." Hecate spun around suddenly at a creaking sound that came from behind her, and then she was enveloped by the familiar red glow of Amy's death spell. Black wisps crawled over her body, and it imploded with a crack, making her fall to the ground. She started laughing maniacally, looking up at Amy. "Silly girl, you can't kill a nightcomer with a night spell."

"No, I guess not, but at least you're not standing in my way anymore." she retorted, and tossed an obsidian-like crystal over Hecate's head, toward Vanessa.

Vanessa reached out, her blood whipping out to wrap around the Luciferian crystal and bringing it into her scorpion-branded palm, crushing it. Darkness shone from her fist, as if she held the brightest light drenched in the darkest shadow in her hand. "Meet your master, Hecate." she whispered, and released the darkness she held. It grew rapidly, taking the shape of a shadowy winged creature covered in fiery red chains, with two single white orbs forming what appeared to be its eyes.

Hecate stood trembling in awe and horror, even as her former master advanced on her, she was paralyzed. Only when it raised its claw in order to take a fatal swing at her, did her large servant attack, the two black figures tumbling to the side as they struggled.

Alice, now freed from the wall, advanced on Hecate, her shotgun morphing into a golden katana. She held it with both hands, and swung it right toward where Hecate stood, but as Alice sliced at her, she once again morphed into the flock of crows, which retreated from the throne room entrance, Amy narrowly sidestepping her. The sound of the front door crashing open came from the vestibule as Hecate left the mansion, her wolf companion disengaging from battle with the Fallen angel and swiftly following behind her.

Taking a deep breath, Alice dropped her katana, and ran toward Amy, hugging her tightly. Vanessa sat exhausted, opening her branded hand. Lucifer once again became a cloud of dark energy as he was absorbed into her palm, the blackness crystallizing. She held it firmly, silently thankful that Amy was a snooper.

"How could you do that to Cathy?" Amy asked from where she pulled away from Alice's embrace. She had heard enough of Hecate's monologue to come to a conclusion. "And my predecessor, Georgia? You just let her die so you could get rid of Cathy? How could you, Mother? How could you betray your children like that?!" she pronounced the words mother and children distastefully, as if to insult what they stood for.

"Amy, I... Please." Vanessa pleaded.

"You lost your child. That doesn't excuse what you've done. We've all lost something. All of us, but we don't betray each other to get what we want. Not like you do."

"You don't understand. I had good reason..."

"I don't care." Amy softly said, and turned away.

Vanessa looked to Alice where she stood, her whole body reflecting her disappointment. "Alice?"

"I don't wanna talk to you right now, Vanessa. I'm tired. Goin' to bed." Alice said before leaving the room.

Vanessa felt her family breaking apart, just as it had so many times before. She knew that eventually she would be alone again, left all by herself in the large mansion, history repeating itself. She reached out a telepathic hand to stop Amy from leaving, to explain her actions.

When Amy felt her presence, she spun around, face contorting in anger, her voice raised into a furious shout. "Ekshist non'nine braht veiss tun eksine makniht!"

Vanessa recoiled and reeled in shock as Amy stared her down for an agonizingly long moment before she turned and left. She looked down at Monica resting in her lap, and felt endless streams of tears rolling down her face. Hecate was gone for the moment, but she had caused incredible, probably irreparable damage to Vanessa's coven. Not only that, but Amy had just spoken the Verbis Diablo, the language that Vanessa never taught the women under her care, for one simple reason. To determine when they were losing their libra, and that was exactly what was happening to Amy.

She was becoming a Nightcomer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are love, and love is awesome.


	6. Drome in die Heks Huis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep tight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal favorite chapter so far. Finally incorporating a bit of horror (my favorite genre) into the story. Experimenting a lot, hope you enjoy.

ALICE  
1.  
A dirty side-street in a dilapidated, walled off town, snow flakes silently descending to the ground from the dull grey sky above. She spotted her target, the blond ponytailed woman who was standing quietly, looking about her as if waiting for someone. She wasn't facing toward Alice, completely unaware of her pursuer, and Alice couldn't see her face.

She scanned the area within five seconds, nobody else was in the vicinity but the target and the assassin. She drew her dagger stealthily, not a sound escaping from its blade. As she crouched closer, she noticed that the woman was abnormally short. She spared a thought that her father might have mentioned in the contract that her target was a dwarf. Then she reached out her arm and drew the blade swiftly over tender skin.

The target emitted a small bloody gurgle before tumbling to the ground. Alice's instructions were clear - assassinate the target, retrieve anything of value she had on her person, place a withered rose in her hand and leave the scene.

Alice knelt down and quickly turned the woman around. What she saw struck horror into her every nerve. Before her lay not a woman, but a little girl, no more than seven years old. Her albino skin as white as the snow flakes decorating the street beneath her, that soon ran red with the blood of a child. The short blond ponytails rustled gently in the winter wind that whipped Alice in the face. Remorse like a hot iron burning into her soul, and a sickness that quickly pushed up from her stomach into her throat made her retch violently, losing the contents of her breakfast as she turned away from her blackest deed.

In the child's open hand lay a wilted rose and next to her a stuffed Pikachu toy, covered in blood, attached to it was a tiny card that had scribbled on it: 'Daddy loves you very much little buggie. Happy birthday.'

2.  
There was banging on the door, but the sound was inaudible next to the music blasting through the apartment from the stereo, spilling out onto the balcony where she stood motionless, staring out at the skyscrapers of Chicago, sunlight reflecting off the seemingly endless glass windows of the building directly in front of her.

"It's how I've often felt when I find myself on nights like these, like Christmas eve." The words echoed from the speakers and resonated with Alice. She smiled crookedly at the irony of the words. A fitting song to see her off.

She stared up at the clear sky, pondered softly if there was a god somewhere up above, and whether it even mattered if there was. He wouldn't forgive her for what she had done, no righteous god ever could. Her hands were stained with innocent blood, and nothing could ever wash it away.

"So I walked 'til I just couldn't, too late I understood. It was always half invented, but the other half was good."

She wondered if the person on the other side of the door was a police officer, her landlord? That would've been the obvious choices. Then again, it could just as easily be the Yakuza, coming to tie up the loose end, the one that ran. Or, worst of all, it could be her father, eyes bloodshot and breath rotten, coming to take her home and put his filthy hands on her again.

In that moment, it didn't matter who had been at the door. She spared a final glance over the beautiful city she called home, then climbed up and onto the balcony railing. She held out her arms beside her, feeling the wind rock her gently, as gently as it rustled the golden blond ponytails of the small body in the snowy side street.

"Just a little thing, buried in the other things. Burning away from inside, could you be with me tonight?"(*)

She stepped forward, and plunged from the balcony of her 26th floor apartment.

3.  
She was standing in the darkness, the little girl with the long fringe and the Hello Kitty t-shirt, clutching a stuffed Gatomon toy close as the voices tore through her mind like razor claws on a chalk board. She was frightened, alone in the thick blackness that surrounded her, but not entirely alone. Through the din in her mind, a low cackle grew louder, until it drowned out everything else.

Then, complete silence. From the silence came the deep, monotonous and menacing voice of something that was once a woman, but had long since become something evil. Something demonic. Like a cassette tape that had been worn out and stretched from years of use, the voice wobbled, sending an icy chill down Alice's spine.

"Hello. Alice."

It echoed all around her, as if it was waiting in the dark, so close. It could snatch her up before she would ever see it. She covered her ears, her Gatomon dropping from her hand as she tried blocking out the horrible sound of the thing that was addressing her.

"Youuuuu. Heeeeear. Meee." the voice spoke with terrifying conviction, drawing the words out in a horrible murky tone.

Her scream filled the air as the blackness consumed her.

4.  
When Alice woke with a silent scream and cold sweat on her brow, she was greeted with more darkness, but this time there was light. The familiar light of the hallway. She cursed aloud at how her nightmares always stayed with her whereas her pleasant dreams started slipping from her memory almost as soon as she awoke.

It was still early morning hours, dawn had not yet come, or the window drapes would have opened already. Alice sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and igniting the candles in the room with her will. She made her way to the large closet, opening it and removing the single black cloak that everyone in the Demimonde wore during the witching hours. She casually swept it over her naked body.

The memory of Hecate's words crept into her mind, proclamations that Vanessa was responsible for Georgia's death and Cathy's downfall. Even worse, she admitted to being responsible. Alice realized that she knew it in the back of her mind all along, but wanted desperately to not believe that Vanessa was capable of sacrificing the members of her coven in order to get results. Wanted to believe that they were all inexpendable, but she knew. The way Cathy had just slipped so suddenly, then Georgia dead.

Alice thought of Georgia. Little skinhead. She loved shaving her hair. She was always a bit of a tomboy, never wore dresses or skirts. She and Vanessa had a bit of a thing going, and then she was murdered for the "greater purpose". So much for that thing they had going, Alice thought.

Alice didn't know whether or not she would be staying with the coven, or where she would go if she left. For the moment, she decided on heading down to the dining room instead. She needed a spectacular view to take the edge off.

***************************************

AMY  
1.  
Peeking through the long blades of grass, she saw her older sister searching for her. She resisted the urge to call out and clue Josie in on her hiding spot. Instead she picked up a pebble and tossed it in the opposite direction, sending Josie off searching.

"C'mon Amy, I'm getting too old for this, and so are you."

You're never too old, Amy thought to herself. She could sing and dance and play all day. In a few months she would be twenty, but she was a child at heart. She saw the beauty of life, even in the worst of times. She often stopped to admire the flowers, the sky, clouds, birds, the tiny little bugs scurrying on the ground. She could run through the woods behind her house all day long, stopping to take a short nap under a tall oak tree, only to resume her communion with nature upon waking, greeting the plants and animals as she went, skipping and dancing all the while.

"Amy! Let's go! C'mon missy, it's getting late!"

Amy crept closer to where Josie stood, jumping up with a high-pitched "boo!" when she came close enough. 

Josie put her hands on her hips, unimpressed. "What am I gonna do with you? Crazy hippy kid, you are."

Amy inhaled a sharp breath, as if to pretend she was offended. "How dare you call your sister crazy?" She stuck her tongue out and jokingly pushed Josie. "Fine then, lead the way. I'm right behind you."

"Don't try to sneak off again, if you insist on being a kid, that means I can spank you like one." Josie laughed as she started walking back toward the house.

"Hey! I can spank too, you know!" Amy giggled as she followed her sister, inhaling a big gulp of fresh New Zealand air into her lungs.

"Yeah, but you hit like girl."

"It's 'cause I am a girl, silly."

They walked a while, spotting their house in the distance, but Josie stopped dead in her tracks, body as stiff as a log. She didn't utter a word, and Amy grew uneasy.

"Josie? What's wrong?" She approached her sister, moving to her side and saw her staring at the house, a look of terror on her face. "What? What is it? Josie?" She followed her sister's gaze, and saw the source of her fear. 

In the attic window, she could barely make it out. The dark shape of a man standing and staring directly back at them, only she had the distinct sense that it wasn't a man. Goosebumps formed on her arms at the terrifying realization that dawned on her. The part of the attic that the window looked in on had been sealed off, bricked shut by the previous owners, and had not seen a living soul in decades.

2.  
The thing in the attic followed her wherever she went. She saw its reflection in store windows, the rear-view mirror of her mother's yellow Buggie, in the water in the bathtub as she pulled the plug. She saw movement in the silverware as she polished them after doing the dishes. She heard the crunch of autumn leaves as something unseen stepped on them as she made her rounds through the woods every day. Barely heard the slight alteration in soundwaves as something disturbed them at the foot of her bed at night. Smelt the foul stench of something dead and felt the hellishly hot breath in her neck as she took her daily nap against a tree. Sensed something watching her from the dark shadows behind every door. Her cat could no longer stand to be around her, hissing at the very sight of her. 

Her mother scoffed at her claims that the 'man' in the attic wanted to get her, but Josie knew. She often stopped, staring in fear at the thing constantly at Amy's back, a dark claw reaching out, nearly touching her. Every passing day it got closer, inch by inch, it was almost close enough to scratch at Amy with one sharp, shadowy finger.

One night it whispered in her ear as she turned on her side to fall asleep. It called itself God and Death and Despair. It spoke of horrors Amy never could have imagined, hissed hurtful things that only she knew of. It had intimate knowledge of every corner of her mind, hidden even from herself.

It latched on to her not long after, on her twentieth birthday, draining all of the joy and light that everyone knew her for from her eyes, her demeanor, her heart. She grew cold, temperamental and the frequent random obscenties she spouted at her mother and Josie became commonplace. 

Then the night came that Josie found her eating their cat and in blind anger she tried to force the thing out of Amy by grabbing her by the arms and shaking her, addressing it as a demon. The thing inside her laughed, a low cackle, as if it felt insulted for being called a demon. Then it touched Josie and she was enveloped in the red aura of Necro, which consumed her life force, and within seconds, it had imploded and taken Josie's life with it.

3.  
Unspeakable acts were committed with Amy's hands for months. Children butchered, graves desecrated, entire congregations massacred on Sunday services, the churches themselves left untouched. Plagues followed wherever she went, people and cattle died of illnesses unknown to any doctor or scientist. Riots broke out in the streets and chaos erupted as loved ones turned against each other, only regaining sense once one had fallen at the hands of the other. Food became spoilt and reservoirs dried up.

Then there was Vanessa, as if in a dream, whispering the entity away. Amy's broken, mutilated body going limp in the witch queen's arms, then a kiss against her temple. She was back in the woods behind her home, skipping and dancing, but when dusk fell, nobody came for her. Nobody played hide and seek with her or led her home, and when she finally made her way back to the house, she found a new mother waiting. Waiting to take her home.

4.  
When Amy's eyes opened, she found that she wasn't in the Demimonde anymore. She was in Brixton, all alone, wearing her black robe. It was the dead of night, but even so she found it strange that not a single person or vehicle passed her as she walked down the street. A fly buzzed lazily next to her ear, and she swatted it away.

From behind her, there came a familiar voice. "I knew you'd come, little one."

***************************************

MONICA  
1.  
She checked her wristwatch. She was late. Again. Class had started ten minutes ago, and she was on thin ice with Professor Cloete. It came as no surprise when he dismissed her from the lecture hall, practically shoving her out the door with a gracious, tactful verbal assault that sounded to her like a nice way of saying 'fuck off and don't come back'.

She opened the second floor door to the smoking area and lit one up, hands on the rails as she stared down at the students below. That was that, she sadly thought. The door opened behind her. 

"Monica? Wat het gebeur?" asked her roommate Surelda, in a language she didn't understand.

"Dis verby, Sue. Tyd om die fantasie van 'n stabiel toekoms te laat gaan. Ek is nie student uitgeknip nie." Monica replied in words that were completely alien to her. What was she saying?

"Shit, ok toemaar, ek kan raai wat gebeur het. Wees rustig, maak jou sigaret klaar, gaan flat toe, vanaand gaan jol ons, my treat. Maar ek moet skiet, ek's ook laat." Surelda replied before taking off, Monica recognizing a few english words between the otherwise unknown language. She was left alone again, cigarette in hand. She kicked the wall in frustration, cursing in the strange language she didn't know. "Fok!"

Minutes later she was in the white Bantam Cabby that she had inherited from her deceased grandfather. She didn't head back to the apartment she shared with Surelda, instead she got on the N7 highway. She needed to be somewhere tonight. She had a long road ahead of her.

She left Potchefstroom, didn't stop on her way through Klerksdorp or Wolmaransstad. The sun cast an orange hue over the sky as daylight hours ran out. She reached Bloemhof, stopping at a small tuck shop.

Once inside, she greeted the African man behind the counter in the foreign language she so easily spoke, and asked him "Verkoop julle blomme?" The man nodded and pointed to a small wooden rack next to the entrance. No roses, what a disappointment, she thought. She bought two bouquets, one with Proteas and the other Lavender, said "Dankie" instead of "Thank you" to the clerk, and left the shop.

She stopped at the Bloemhof cemetery briefly and layed down the Lavender bouquet at her childhood sweetheart's grave. "Mis jou, Kobus. Jou klein kak." she grinned sadly, wiping the tears from beneath her eyes.

2.  
The open road between Bloemhof and Christiana was painful. She had driven this road one too many times in her life. Nothing but open plains and scant civilization, save for one or two dirt paths leading to shantytowns and small bushes lining the sides of the road. When she passed some goats and cattle, she knew she was approaching Christiana.

She didn't stop in Christiana either, the sun had set and she was close to her destination. She met the final push with speed, the Cabby's engine humming loudly at 180kph. In little more than half an hour, she was in Magogong, steering the Cabby onto one of the rocky dirt roads leading to the numerous farms.

The Cabby shook as she drove slowly, silently thankful that she inherited a Bantam instead of a delicate car that wouldn't be treated kindly by the rough terrain. When she reached her grandmother's farm minutes later, she parked on the soft green grass overlooking the seemingly endless corn crops and made her way inside the house.

3.  
Her grandmother Cornelia was laying in her bed alone, oxygen mask placed over her face. "Hi Ouma. Waar's Sara?" She asked, noting that she hadn't seen the maid.

Cornelia took the mask off, smiling gently at her granddaughter. "You don't need to hide from me, sweetheart. I understand you, and you understand me."

Monica gasped. She tried to speak, but she couldn't, she was at a complete loss for words as Cornelia held out her hand. 

"Those for me?" She looked at the Proteas in Monica's hand. "They're lovely, sweetheart. Nobody ever got me Proteas before." she reached up and took the flowers Monica handed to her, hugging them close to her chest.

There was a moment of silence, save for the soft gurgling of the oxygen tank. Cornelia's eyes were closed, her face serene and peaceful. Then they flew open, and she coughed violently, blood splattering on the white sheets under which she lay. Monica reacted quickly, putting the oxygen mask back in place, Cornelia taking deep breaths before removing it again.

"You are so very special to me, sweetheart. I have always been so proud of you." a thick tear rolled down a withered, pale cheek. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you tonight, like everyone else has, but you have to be brave and meet your destiny head first. You were always meant to be alone, my darling. You need to understand, you need to accept the role you must play. You are..." she coughed once more, but refused Monica's help with the mask, instead leaving it off. "You need to be... who you are."

Monica held her hand tightly, feeling it grow slack. Cornelia's breaths grew shallow, ragged. Finally, Monica broke through her haze and her language barrier and asked "Who am I, Ouma?"

"Ask...your mother."

"I don't understand, Ouma. Mamma is dead, you know that."

"No... she's not. Vanessa..."

And in that instant, as Cornelia slipped away into eternal rest, Monica remembered.

4.  
She was on the beach, reaching out to Vanessa, a fanged mouth at her ear, whispering words into her mouth. Then she was in the dark place again, and the fangs sank deeply into her neck. Pleasure and pain mixed in with her fear as she came undone, her dark lover embracing her.

Then Hecate was standing tall over her, face twisted with disgust and hatred. She spat on Monica's tiny body as she plunged the knife deep into her chest, making a wide incision to expose her vital organs.

***************************************

VANESSA  
1.  
After tucking Monica in, Vanessa returned to the throne room. She didn't sleep, even though she longed to just close her eyes and drift away into her subconcious as she had when she was still human. She wouldn't need to deal with the events that transpired that evening, the way her coven fractured in one small instant, the hurt of seeing the man she loved reduced to such a base, mindless creature. The painful glares of betrayal from Amy and Alice that was now and forever etched into her memory.

Hecate had dealt a significant blow, but she still left empty handed. The Luciferian crystal was safe where it belonged, in the hands of the woman that defeated the Fallen angel.

She allowed memory to take her back, two figures forming before her. Remnants of her using her blood like a snare, wrapping it around Cathy's body, and ripping the dark energy from her, binding it to an Obsidian crystal. Cathy suffered immensely from the ritual, but she knew it had to be done. Georgia had paid with her life to ensure that Lucifer didn't leave Cathy's body, binding him in place with the last drop of her life's blood.

Cathy was left aged and on the verge of death from the experience, but it was all part of the greater good, the bigger picture. Amy was in the grip of an ancient evil, leaving a wide path of apocalyptic destruction in her wake. She needed to be stopped, but she was also too valuable in the end game to be simply put down.

Georgia knew her death would not be in vain. It would finally open the door for Monica to return home, where she should have been all along. Had it not been for the natural law that a coven cannot exist with more or less than three sisters and one mother, Monica would have been with them since her birth. Vanessa hated herself for allowing her to go through such a lonely life, bearing the Bakeneko curse and never knowing her true identity. If only things had been different.

2.  
She called on the image of Hecate, face frozen in the rage she had displayed when she realized her final tryst with Vanessa was a ruse, just a trick to obtain her immortality and use it to forge the Obsidian crystal into an everlasting prison.

She recalled the moment she failed to capture Lucifer, her first attempt using only a mundane Obsidian stone. His darkness merging with her blood and awakening the latent goddess inside her.

She recalled another memory, the memory of Dorian. When in her omniscience, she saw him for the monster that he truly was, and as she ripped his soul from his portrait and burnt it to ash, the incredible intoxication of taking another life as a goddess overwhelmed her. She was, for that time, a being of pure desire. There had been no humanity or love or moral inhibition to offset the intense need she had for destruction and ultimate self-destruction. She had craved only the nothingness, the utter bliss of eternal silence and slumber.

Then the moment where she returned from her destructive evil bender and told Hecate she was leaving their coven. The hatred burning like fire in Hecate's eyes as she declared Vanessa an enemy.

She dwelt further back, to the beginning where a knock came at the door at Grandage place, the door opening to Hecate's smug face. She fast tracked to the moment they found the immortality spell, and then the moment they performed it together, two hearts as one. One woman inheriting some of the others' essence.

Another memory, of her and Hecate dueling with the hardened blood from their palms like two gentlemen crossing swords. Both delirious with the excitement and wonder of it all. Embracing, kissing. Perhaps it was some sort of mutual respect and understanding that drew them so close. Like yin and yang, each was the other's libra.

3.  
Then the memory of Ethan, his strong arms around her, comforting her as she wept at the grave of their daughter. They had buried her next to the stump on Ballentree Moor, that one cold November day. She refused to stay in the cottage that night. The best, closest place they could find was a cheap, dirty old hotel in the countryside. Ethan disappeared that very night as she slept. Vanessa had made peace with the simplest answer, that he couldn't bare to be around the mother of his dead daughter. Now she knew the truth, that Hecate murdering their baby girl and using her heart to control Ethan was only the first serious move in her quest to conquer the "white queen" and win the game.

Vanessa called up a chessboard, slowly removing the pieces one by one for each victory she had won and every time she had lost. There had been a bitter war raging between Hecate and Vanessa for well over a century, but the stakes (and the consequences) were significantly raised when Vanessa feigned interest in re-establishing their original coven in order to get close enough to steal Hecate's immortality.

Hecate had a considerably large coven at her disposal. She was the black queen, the rules didn't apply to her, because she had nothing to lose, no libra. Her scales had already been tipped, and this gave her an advantage as well as put her at a disadvantage. She recruited males and females into her coven, which Vanessa estimated would be around 13 or so, but they were weak. None of them had any real affinity for the midnight magicks. Instead they are used solely as Hecate's cannon fodder, her pawn pieces.

She realized that the way Hecate was playing, she was luring Vanessa's strongest pieces out to leave Vanessa's queen exposed. She was exposed without her coven surrounding her, and running out of moves to make.

4.  
"Playing Chess?" Monica stood in the doorway, clad in a black cloak. "Never played myself. Couldn't quite wrap my head around it."

"It's actually fairly simple to play Chess, it's the strategizing that's the tricky part. Unless you are up against a fool that has no master plan. I could teach you, if you wish."

"Actually, there is something else I'd like to discuss with you."

Vanessa blinked, breath hitching as she awaited the moment of truth. "You remember?"

Monica nodded as a small smile played on her lips.

"My name is Mina Murray. And I remember everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special Thank you to scorpionmother for her continued support and encouragement of my story.
> 
> (*) Song credit: Little thing by Jimmy Eat World


	7. Dogter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice comes to a decision about Vanessa and the coven, and Vanessa spends some quality time with Monica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowed the plot down to a crawl to accomodate a bit of interaction between the four ladies of the house, things will pick up again next time.

"My name is Mina Murray. And I remember everything." Monica said, the sound of her voice had become at once somber and joyful.

"I remember the beyond, I remember your voice calling to me. I remember the night I was conceived a second time, your thoughts at my ear. Your cries of passion as you pulled me back."

Vanessa stood silent, listening to her words, expression filled with sadness and joy.

"Then I remember Hecate cutting me open, killing me again. I remember the third time I was conceived, but only the incantation. You used an incredibly dark spell to reawaken my soul in another's body. I hope it was worth the cost."

"It was." Vanessa sighed, unable to hold back her tears. "It was worth any cost."

"The cost of another soul?"

"I am not proud of what I have sacrificed. Sir Malcolm once spoke words, long ago, and I shall repeat them, because I have since come to understand the depth of their meaning. For you, I will murder the world."

Monica took a breath. "This is incredibly awkward. I remember you as my mother. I remember you as my friend, my sister. And I remember you as the stranger I have known only since yesterday. Which am I to you?"

"You are all. You are Monica, daughter to Ina and Manus, you are Mina, the sister I wronged, and my daughter, that I couldn't protect. I should have..." Vanessa sobbed softly, tears escaping her eyes as she closed them.

Monica was at her side then, wrapping arms around her shaking body, hugging her, and it was like years of inner turmoil broke through the surface as she let go of her steadfast composure and cried uncontrollably, clinging to Monica tightly.

"It's okay, Mother, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere this time." She braided her hands through Vanessa's hair. "I promise. Hecate will pay for what she has done to our family. To Father."

"Yes." Vanessa stopped crying then, her voice filling with rage. "She will."

***************************************

The twinkling lights of Tokyo flickered down below as Alice sat high above, legs crossed, on the edge of a thick, white cloud. Her hands skirted through the moist fluff beneath her, and she felt the dampness of condensed droplets as they gathered on her hand. Her cloak was soaked beneath her but she didn't mind.

She barely managed to spot Mount Fuji, the off-white peak reaching up toward the sky. Alice had heard legends about it, that it was a secret gateway to the underworld, that if it were ever to erupt, those gates would be thrown wide open and hell would be unleashed upon the world. The world is hellish enough as it is, Alice thought, the wind blowing a cool, thin spray of drops into her face from the edge of the cloud she sat on.

At the base of Mount Fuji, she noticed the countless trees of Aokigahara. She remembered that it was dubbed the Suicide Forest, even a sign had been placed at the main trail that urges suicidal visitors to seek help and think of their families. She recalled the stories that the angry spirits of those that had died there roam about, causing even more suicides to occur among unwary visitors. She silently connected the forest to Mount Fuji, wondering if it was perhaps connected to the gate to hell resting within the dormant volcano, or if perhaps they were mere myths invented by bored folk.

Alice got to her feet, standing on the cloudy bed beneath her, and visualized her own suicide. She saw her apartment balcony, and herself spreading her arms and falling, falling, falling. And then she was gone. She couldn't remember anything past the impact of her body against the sidewalk, and before the moment she awoke on the London Eye, stepping out from her capsule once it stopped to meet Vanessa for the first time. Yet she knew then and there Vanessa was the reason she was standing at all.

She had been with the coven since early 2005, not having aged a day since she took up residence with Vanessa, Cathy and Georgia. She wasn't immortal, she had sustained cuts, bruises, and broken bones through the years and she was pretty sure she would meet her end if she were ever to step in front of a speeding bus. But she never got sick, didn't age. She craved food and water yet she could definitely survive starvation and dehydration. She couldn't use her blood as a solid weapon like Vanessa could, but she could feel it tingling with every spell, her temperature rising each time she used her will.

She realized in that instant that she was already dead. She had already died once, they had all died once. Cathy and Georgia, Amy and Monica. The only reason they were walking and breathing was because Vanessa allowed it. She had given them a second chance, and they shunned her for asking them to return that gift when it was time.

Alice suddenly felt like a selfish, petty fool. How easily Hecate weaved her words to poison her mind against her queen. This was what she wanted to accomplish, to tear their coven apart, but Alice decided then and there that she would not allow it to happen. Even if she had to give her life for it.

As she turned to leave the dining room, she shrieked as she bumped into Amy, who had been standing right behind her. 

"Fuck, you scared me! What are you doing up so early?"

Instead of answering, Amy stared straight at her, eyes cold and empty. Then she swayed back and forth and collapsed into Alice's arms.

***************************************

"Close your eyes."

Monica complied, closing her eyes. When Vanessa told her to open them again, they were standing on a misty beach in Hartenbos, South Africa. A place where Monica often came with her family when she was young, when she was still a happy child.

"Why here?" She asked a question to which she almost certainly knew the answer.

"This is where you were happy. Where you smiled and your cares were forgotten. The mornings where you snuck out from the beach house before dawn came, to walk this very beach. You loved the thickness of the mist, the way you could just sit and listen to the waves crashing without being able to see them. You thought you were alone at such an unbecoming hour, but I was always there. Watching over you. Listening to your thoughts. Hearing you sing softly to yourself. I found myself unable to stay away, no matter how hard I tried."

"Why stay away at all?"

"Without the protection I could give you now, you would have been vulnerable to attack from Hecate. I took great care in ensuring she would never know you had been reincarnated, and these were the moments I found my caution scattering to the winds."

Monica breathed the ocean air deep into her lungs, exhaling loudly, listening to the crash and bubble of the waves and felt the wet, soft sand between her toes. She stepped forward, until she felt the salty water spill over her feet. The tips of her cloak stuck to her legs as they became damp from the waves ricocheting at her feet.

A flash of a memory played in her mind, of when she and Vanessa last met on a beach similar to this, when she had been under The Vampire's control in her life as Sir Malcolm's daughter. She thought of him then, how he had shot and killed her when she was beyond salvation.

"Did he ever feel bad about it?" She asked, her voice carried over the roar of the waves, looking ahead of her at the sea, although she couldn't see much of it.

"Every single day, but he carried on. You remember how he was." Vanessa spoke, standing next to her, following her gaze. "He was a hardy man, losing Peter, you, then Gladys just spurred him to an even greater desire for self-redemption. He had nothing left but to make amends for his sins before his death."

"What happened to him?"

"The creature who controlled you re-emerged, and sent your friend, Lucy, to finish what you couldn't."

"Poor Lucy." Monica said, sounding strangely apathetic.

"You have absolutely no regret about his passing?"

She wrinkled her nose slightly before relaxing it again. "Sir Malcolm deserved everything that happened to him. I don't feel sorry for him. His love for himself, his ambitions and his whores overshadowed what little love he had for his family. And in the end, his desires got the best of him, and it was his undoing. That's irony, gotta love it."

"And what do you imagine I deserve?" Vanessa quietly wondered. "I have committed atrocities far worse."

Monica closed her eyes, whispering "Mother is god in the eyes of her child" and opened them a moment later. They were now standing on a dark, silent street in an unknown location. A quaint suburban neighborhood, with big yards and small, one-story houses and elm trees lining the sidewalks. Small circles of light were cast by the widely spaced lamp-posts.

Vanessa led her into the yard of a house numbered 23 on the cement paving. A small apple tree hung just to the left of the front porch, but they didn't enter, instead going around to the side, past a clear blue swimming pool and stopped at a large window, curtains drawn back. Monica saw a bed, and on it, Vanessa lay, wearing nothing beneath the sheets. Ethan was wrapped up snuggly against her in the dark of the room, also nude, one arm hugged tightly around her, her head resting on his hand on the pillow.

They looked so normal, so serene, like any ordinary couple you might pass on the street, but Monica didn't notice any wedding rings on their fingers.

Vanessa kept walking, holding out her hand to Monica, which she took as she caught up. Two windows further, they stopped and looked inside. There was a crib, and a bald, naked woman with satanic symbolism branded all over her face and chest was reaching down into it, taking the sleeping babe into her arms, careful not to wake her and alert her parents.

The woman raised her own palm to her face and bit down hard, ripping a large chunk of flesh loose, bloud pooring from the open wound. She proceeded with the baby still in arm, to the adjacent wall and pressed her bloody hand on it, painting large red letters which Monica couldn't make out in the dark of the room.

When she finished, the woman turned to the window and before Monica could register her movements, the window broke with a loud crash, the Nightcomer disappearing into the night.

"Mina?!" Vanessa called out as she and Ethan came running down the hallway, turning on the light of the nursery and dashing to the crib in a panic. When they realized what had happened, Ethan clutched his hand to his buzz-cut crown, a panicked roar of confusion and despair escaping his throat. He ran to the window and jumped over the broken glass in pursuit of their daughter as Vanessa remained, traumatized, scanning the room in a daze. She turned to the wall and within moments, she was letting out an angry grief-stricken scream. She collapsed to her knees on the carpeted floor, staring helplessly at the message written in blood to her.

YOUR FAULT

***************************************

Amy was laid down on her bed, awakening the instant her head touched the pillow. She saw Alice, and then Alice saw her.

"Welcome back, little red. Had me worrying there." Alice sat herself next to Amy's feet.

Amy brought her hand to her eyes, rubbing fingers over them gently. "What happened?"

"Hell if I know, think you were sleepwalking. I was just minding my business and then bam, there you were, like some exorcist kinda shit, just looking at me, and then you bombed out. Would've fell flat on your face if I wasn't there."

"I had this horrible nightmare, but I can't remember it anymore."

"Geez, lucky you. Wish I could forget my nightmares." She remembered vividly the wobbly, deep female voice in the darkness of her dream, and shivered.

"Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhh I feel terrible." Amy moaned, placing the back of her hand on her forehead.

"Yeah, you look like shit, sis. No offense."

"I'm not in a position to take offense right now. But leave a message and I'll call you right back." She teased with a drowsy voice.

Alice giggled, flicking Amy's nose with her finger.

"Ooooooooow, god! You're horrible." She grabbed Alice's hand and pushed it away as she turned her body so she could stick her face into the pillow, making a small annoyed muffle.

Alice sat quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"You okay?"

"Hmmmpppphhhh?" Came the muffle from within the pillow.

"All that bullshit tonight? With Hecate, and the things she said about Vanessa?"

"Hm-ihm" came the protest from within the pillow.

"Could you come out from there for a second?" Alice pulled her hair so her face lifted enough from the pillow so she could make out her words.

"Ooooooooow, these are not extensions, cow!"

"You're so touchy." Alice laughed. "I could just poke you and you'll say 'ow'."

"And you've got anger management issues. Like the way you threw your toys this morning at breakfast!"

"I did not throw my 'toys'."

"Did too!"

"Okay fine, you win. I have anger management issues. Everybody knows that."

"Yay! Can you let go of my hair now?"

"I'm trying to talk to you here, will you at least talk back without your face in the pillow so I can hear what you're saying?"

"Maybe I don't wanna talk. My head hurts and I'm not in the mood to get heavy."

"Fine then." Alice slammed her face back into the pillow, a frustrated groan muffled. "Then I'll talk, and you listen? Deal?"

Amy turned her face then, so her mouth and one eye was visible. "Deal."

After a short silence, she started apologizing.  
"Listen, kiddo. I'm sorry about that guy tonight. I really didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I didn't. He did."

"Look, don't tell Vanessa this, but that thing you did with the red ball, whatever that was, was pretty fuckin' badass."

"I wish you wouldn't cuss so much. Makes you unladylike."

"Kid, nothing about me is ladylike, and good going on changing the subject."

"I wouldn't say that. We get you to wear a dress, who knows." She said, ignoring the latter part of Alice's sentence.

"Me in a dress? Hell no." She giggled. Then she sat silent for a while, before finally breaking the banter and getting serious.

"Listen, I've been thinking a bit, didn't sleep so well. You remember when you died right? When Vanessa revived you? Don't you think we're being a bit hard on her?"

"No." Amy swiftly replied before turning her face back into the pillow.

"But she gave us all an extension. We're all already dead. The reason we're all walking is because of her. Doesn't that make our argument a bit stupid?"

No reply came.

"She saved you, Amy. Cathy and Georgia, I'm sure there was a very, very good reason. Vanessa wouldn't just let us die for nothing? That would make her just as evil as Hecate, and we both know that isn't true. Maybe it had something to do with the crystal, we can't be sure?"

Amy turned her head again, a scowl on her face this time. "Why don't you go ask her then, I'm sure she'll agree with everything you say."

Alice started to say something, but was interrupted.

"Look, I don't wanna talk about it. Just leave me alone, let me sleep." She sank into the pillow again.

Alice touched a hand to her shoulder, which was shrugged off roughly. She breathed a sigh, and got up off the bed. She walked to the door, glimpsing back briefly.

"Sleep well, little red." she said, unable to mask the affection she had developed for the playful redhead in her voice, and pulled the door shut behind her.

***************************************

When they returned to the throne room, Monica and Vanessa were deathly silent. When Vanessa finally spoke, her tone was raw and pleading.

"Please, do not hate me."

Monica frowned at such a request. "Hate you?"

"I didn't protect you like I should have. I thought we were safe, that my magic was powerful enough to shield our home from detection. I was wrong. I made a terrible, stupid mistake, and I lost you." A sob came as her voice broke. "I could bear any burden this horrible world saddles me with. I can bear your father being lost to that bitch. I can bear the members of my coven not trusting me, but I cannot bear it if you hate me. Cannot bear the thought of losing you again, not when I only just found you."

Monica hugged her mother, cheek to cheek. "I told you before, I'm not going anywhere. I only just found you, too." She wiped away a tear from her eye and planted a brief kiss on Vanessa's cheek before letting go. "And we're not done yet. I will not let my father suffer any more than he already has at the hands of that monster."

A worried expression played on Vanessa's face. "What if... What if it's too late? What if we can't save him?"

Monica took a step back, eyes scanning back and forth across the floor before she sighed and walked slowly to the fireplace. She stopped in front of the crackling flames and hugged herself, a chill spreading through her body.

"You mean like if he is as far gone as I was when I was under the Vampire's control?"

Vanessa softly muttered a 'yes', fearing the worst might have come to pass.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Mother."

"Then we do the merciful thing." Vanessa agreed, voice mixed with sadness and resolve equally. "Then we put him down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a result of me smashing through writers block with a sledgehammer, soooo not my best work. Sorry :-l


	8. Skaakmat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkness claims one of the coven and Vanessa and Hecate have a parle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball is rolling my friends... Please buckle up, it's gonna be a bumpy ride from here on out.

"So let me get this straight? You were her best friend, then her father shot her. Then you got pregnant with her, then Hecate butchered her. Then you awakened her inside another woman's womb?" Alice repeated the short version of the detailed story she had just heard, and Vanessa nodded.

"Well, fuck me."

They were all seated at the dining table, having brunch since Amy had slept in and Vanessa had more catching up to do with Monica, while Alice engaged in a few rounds of full contact sparring in the "Rec hall".

At present, the dining table was stationed inside a gazebo in a lavender-filled clearing surrounded by a dense forest. The sweet aroma of the lavender surrounded the table, carried by a warm summer breeze. Rays of sunlight pierced through the circular mosaic windows lining the top of the gazebo, wrapping each of the girls in a warm glow. From somewhere unseen, music softly resonated harmoniously from cello's, harps and violins to accompany the setting, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

"So what do we call you now? Monica or Mina?" Alice chimed.

"Either is fine by me. I've been Mina longer than I have been Monica, but it really doesn't matter."

"And you suffered from a... Back-in-a-crow..?" Alice curled her lip trying to pronounce the word. 

"Bakeneko curse." Monica laughed. "Aren't you supposed to know that, given your Japanese heritage?"

"Only by half. I'm also half American, but I don't know every single detail about American folklore either."

"Fair point." Monica shrugged, piercing a slice of cold fillet turkey with her fork and bringing it to her mouth.

Amy sat beside her as she had the previous day, but she might as well have been absent, she hadn't said a word. Monica noticed the contrast between her and Alice, the way her perception of them had changed. Alice had warmed up to her. She lacked in tact, that was certain, but she was much friendlier than the morning before. Amy, however, seemed withdrawn and solemn, unlike her usual joyous self.

"So, this curse... Every single parental figure?" Alice brought an olive-skewered toothpick to her mouth.

"Yes, but it only kicked in once I'd been in their care for seven years." Monica said, a hint of sadness in her tone.

"So like, not to be insensitive, but are we all gonna die in seven years? Why does that sound like some horror movie?"

Vanessa leaned forward, a glass of sparkling champagne in hand. "You do realize you are being insensitive, despite your intention not to be? The curse was broken the moment the last of her immediate family passed on. So you are safe. Leave it be."

"Sorry." Alice shrugged, clenching the olive between her teeth and removing it from the toothpick.

"We commemorate Monica's family today. In particular, her beloved grandmother, the Lavender holds great significance to the late Cornelia, and I propose we raise our glasses in a toast." Vanessa raised her glass, and was joined by Alice and Monica, while Amy sat back and folded her arms as they all took sips of their champagne.

An awkward silence befell the table for a while, nothing but the sound of the three instruments reaching crescendo. Amy finally said her first words since taking her seat.

"So, are we going to commemorate Cathy too?"

The sound of a fork dropping on a plate accompanied the loud spitting sound as Alice spat her olive out, the music dying down.

"I saw it happen, you know, when she dusted. While I was leading Monica in, I watched her body erode and scatter." Her tone was unnervingly even.

"You handled it well, kiddo. Kept your game face. I'm proud of you." Alice leaned forward and reached out to touch Amy's hand, but she pulled it back.

"You don't understand." She breathed, addressing only Alice, as if they were alone at the table. "Before we went to collect Mina, she told me something, and it didn't make sense until now. She said that blood is thicker than water, and she was right. I see that now. We don't matter to her, Alice. She only cares about Mina and that thing that attacked you last night. You and I, we are nothing but pieces on a chessboard to her."

Monica felt a sense of unease at Amy's words. The chessboard and Vanessa, Amy was hitting the nail right on its head. She looked to her mother, who was also growing uneasy, grip on her glass tightening.

"Isn't that right, mother?" Amy finally addressed Vanessa, voice still as even as when she started speaking.

Alice and Monica looked to each other, Alice downed her glass of champagne, and Monica didn't sip on hers either.

"You are absolutely correct, Amy." Vanessa said, her tone even and calm to match Amy's. "You are pieces in a game of chess, all of you. Only this isn't a game. This is war we find ourselves in. A war with a very high risk of casualty. And I don't plan on losing."

"So you just brought us back to use us? To control us. You don't give a shit."

"She does give a shit, don't you, Vanessa?" Alice tried placating her, surprised at her sudden use of a 'bad' word she never before spoke even once.

"I knew you would say that." She lowered her head. "I knew after last night that I wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise."

Vanessa rose from her chair, hands pressed on the table, raising her voice. "Why are you trying to, Amy?! Why do you insist on placing me in such a monstrous light when I released you from the evil that threatened to destroy this world and everything in it?!"

Amy remained sat, popping a garlic snail into her mouth. "You are a liar. You didn't rid me of anything, it's still inside me. I can feel its claws scratching. It wants to get out. It doesn't like being caged."

"I know what that feels like. Believe me, I do."

"And that makes it all the more tragic."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Vanessa reeled, clutching her hand to her temple.

"Mother?" Monica noticed Vanessa swerving, getting up and moving to her side.

"What have you done?" Vanessa groaned, her glass falling from the table and shattering on the ground below. Next to her, Alice went limp, her face hitting the table as she fell unconscious.

"I'm sorry, Alice. You really should have listened to me." Amy blinked, her pupils dilating completely, eliminating all color from her eyes, then turned her icy gaze to Vanessa.

Monica tried desperately to hold Vanessa up, to keep her awake, but soon she grew completely slack in her arms. She looked up just in time to notice the red hue of Necro flying right toward her. She dove to the side, Vanessa still in her arms. The dead weight of her mother caused them both to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

Monica reacted purely on instinct, concentrating on one of the chairs and lifting it with her mind, sending it forward and crashing into Amy, causing it to shatter on impact. Monica got to her feet, dizziness washing over her and clouding her mind. Another ball of death magic whizzed past her, missing by an inch.

Straining her sight, her vision becoming fuzzy, she saw Amy's figure slowly approaching. She used what little will she had and dragged the dining table to the right with her mind, attempting to block Amy's advance. Amy lifted her hand and the table flew at Monica, the impact sending her stumbling back into the Lavender field.

"Why, Amy?" Monica managed to yell.

"Because you're the fucking catalyst." Amy whispered audibly, hurling another red ball at Monica, this time hitting her target.

A deep scarlet hue obscured her vision even further, darkness closing in around her with a deafening screech. She felt as if she had fallen into a frozen lake of liquid fire, icy needles pierced her mind accompanied by a searing heat seeping into her every nerve. With a loud thunderous boom, her blurry vision gave way to darkness.

************************************

The smelling salts and the scent of Lavender snapped her back to consciousness. Vanessa was leaning over her, eyes brightening with relief. "Oh, thank God."

Alice came running back in through the lone doorway stationed behind the gazebo. "It's still there, good thing you hid it somewhere else."

Monica looked at Vanessa in bewilderment.

"We feared she had taken the crystal, but I had the fortunate suspicion that this might happen, so I hid it in your room." Vanessa assured her.

"She must have taken something, right? I mean, she wouldn't have poisoned us with mistletoe to knock us out for hours if she could just leave at any given time without taking something with her." Alice said, her voice heavy with burden. "I should have seen this coming. Last night... she hasn't been herself since she killed that boy."

"We can't think about that now. We have to find her. She needs our help." Vanessa helped Monica to her feet.

"She used Necro on me." Monica muttered, her legs weak, mind still numb with the effects of the spell.

"Did she say anything to you? Like where she might be going?" Alice sounded deeply concerned.

"No, but she blames me for it, she made that clear. Her eyes though... Her pupils were fully dilated."

"They were black?" Vanessa gasped, and Monica nodded. 

"Oh no. No no no." She turned and ran for the door, Alice catching up to her before she could exit into the mansion.

"What is going on? I wanna help, please?!"

"Do you trust me?"

Alice took a deep breath, and nodded.

"As soon as I return I will explain everything, but for now, you have to let me do what I must to find her." She said before turning to leave, but Alice stopped her once more.

"She's family, Vanessa."

Vanessa nodded and promptly left through the door. Alice turned back to Monica, breathing a deep, shaky sigh, walked to one of the seats in the midst of the dining table carnage and sat hunched down, sweeping a hand over hair and lifting them over her shoulder, burying her face in her hands.

Monica stood silently, steadily regaining her balance.

"She'll find her." She reassured Alice. She imagined a soft sniffling sound coming from the strong, tough-as-nails woman.

"I know." Alice said, removing her hands and wiping a tear away where it rolled down her cheek and dripped from her chin.

"She's just a kid, y'know? She's the best of us."

"I know." Monica said quietly.

Alice breathed another deep emotional sigh, placing her hands between her knees. 

"I struggled a lot, making friends with the others, but when she came along, we just sort of clicked. She said that I reminded her of her big sister." She wiped another tear away, her sniffing clear this time.

"So..." Alice cleared her throat. "You survived the red ring of death, eh?"

"Seems that way, yeah. Perk of not being a hundred percent daywalker I guess."

"Well, glad you did. You've only been here a day, but it already feels like we've been through a lot of shit together, y'know?"

"Tell me about it. A day ago I was an orphan. Time flies."

"So what's that like, don't you get mixed up with your memories of who she is? Doesn't it feel weird?"

"Strangely no. The memories of my life as a Murray feels like someone else's, like a very vivid dream, an alternate reality. The only real memories that are mine is of Vanessa and my third-generation parents, but now it feels like they were just my guardians, like she has always been my mother."

"Rad." Alice sighed, somewhat confused. "Hey listen, sorry I was such a bitch to you yesterday."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize. I get it."

"I need to apologize, if it's not gonna make you feel better, that's fine, but it will make me feel a bit better, so let me apologize."

"You don't really look like someone who makes a habit of apologizing, so I'm flattered."

"You are welcome."

A silence lingered between them, a violin squeaked in the distance.

"So was that the apology?" Monica asked, a small smile lining her lips.

"Yup."

************************************

Vanessa stood on the train platform of the Charing Cross subway, waiting patiently. Trains came and went by the dozens, but she ignored them. She focused her thoughts, skittered through the minds of every person in her proximity. She waited, listened. Then her gaze fell on a seemingly ordinary man of thirty-five years old. He wore a baseball cap, football shirt and levi jeans. Her eyes narrowed on him as he waited for the next train.

When it arrived, she followed him on board, staying close to him. He took a seat next to a young pre-pubescent boy and Vanessa kept the distance between them short but inconspicuous. The second she saw his hand move to grasp the boy's leg, she enveloped the entire train in a cloak of darkness, and she struck.

When the light returned inside the train, it was empty, save for Vanessa standing over the pedophile's bloody mangled body, inhaling deep, the rush of the kill sending a hint of pleasure coursing through her veins. When it dissipated, she kneeled down and drew a large pentagram on the train floor with the fresh blood she collected on her palm.

She stood then, and waited. The lights in the train flickered, a wind gushed through her hair, and then Hecate stood before her, dressed in a white fur coat and nothing else.

"Still picking off the sinners I see. How very noble of you. And in a subway train. How the classy have fallen."

Vanessa's expression was one of pure hatred. "You have her."

"Skipping to the pleasantries so soon? Very well. Yes I have your beloved Amy in my care. She is such a magnificent force of nature. The way you kept her restrained for so long is beyond criminal."

"You cannot even begin to comprehend what you are dealing with."

"Don't I?"

"You sound just like your mother. Not unlike her, you too will soon meet a rather unfortunate demise."

Hecate laughed, amused by the insult directed at her.

"Evelyn Poole was a weak, withered old whore who bowed to a petty child trying to spite his father. That child shall bow to me very soon."

"Not if I can help it."

"You are running out of options, dear sister. Soon, you will have to make the choice, the choice between what is more valuable to you. Your family or your assets."

"Why wait."

"Now that does sound appealing. When and where?"

Vanessa paused a moment.

"Tomorrow at dusk. Amy's childhood home."

"Ah, how sentimental of you. Good. The entity inside her will be most pleased."

"I stake my life on it."

"You very well might pay exactly that."

And with that, the lights of the train flickered once more, and she was gone.

************************************

When Hecate returned home that night to her luxurious modern two story house on the cliffs of Saundersfoot, Wales, she removed her fur coat and tossed it over one of her male underlings as she entered the front door, walking into the wide spacious sitting room in all of her nude glory. The enormous black wolf sat on the large exterior porch, awaiting her command. The rest of her dozen or so underlings were sprawled out on couches, on the floors, against the walls and on top of tables, all taking part in the daily orgy she hosted in her home.

Through the wet slapping noises of flesh on flesh, the pleasured moans of women and men alike and the thrashing din of electric guitars and drums accompanying a male vocalist screaming and growling the barely audible lyrics, Hecate's slow movements echoed a low thud with each step she took, walking slowly toward her most prized possession.

From the middle of the room, Amy, still fully clothed, met Hecate's appoach, coming face to face with her. She allowed the Black queen to take her chin between her slender fingers and kiss her deep for a moment, before pulling back, staring at her with anxious eyes.

"You have something for me."

Amy's red hair turned a shade darker as she reached in between her breasts and removed the vial of blood, handing it to Hecate.

Hecate smiled triumphantly.

"The queen is finally exposed. Well done, little one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are interested in seeing the Alice and Amy face models, email me a request and I'll send them to you ;)


	9. Onsterflike Bloed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of their battle with Hecate and her coven, Vanessa trains Monica for the fight and Alice tries desperately to reach out to Amy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this was supposed to be part of chapter 8, but thought it better to split it in two.

When Vanessa returned to the Demimonde later that night, she informed the girls of Amy's situation, and the impending battle. After she confirmed that Hecate wouldn't harm or violate Amy, Alice left mother and daughter alone in the throne room, visibly upset even after the small comfort of her queen's words.

"It will be arduous, and I fear you are unprepared for the battle we are about to face." Vanessa said, willing a small razor blade to materialize in her hand.

She used it to make a large incision directly across the scorpion brand on her other hand. The blood that spilled forth coiled and moved, as if it had a life of its own. She passed the razor blade to Monica, who understood what needed to be done, making an incision in her own palm, blood seeping to the surface of her breeched skin.

They locked their bloodied hands, and Monica felt the warmth coursing through her arm, up through her neck and into her mind. Down into her chest, her legs. She felt simultaneously enlightened and burdened by the sensation, as if she was meeting the very essence of darkness, and loving its embrace. Her blood started twirling in her palm like a severed scorpion stinger.

"Shape it to your will. As your blood keeps you alive, now it is you that also gives it life."

Monica concentrated on the blood pooling in her hand, attempting to shape it.

"Do not concentrate on it, it is not an object you can lift. Feel it. Feel it pump in tandem with your heart, feel it as it rises from your flesh."

Monica tried clearing her thoughts and focused on her heartbeat, on the feeling of the blood wriggling in her palm. She felt it, tried to will it into a whip.

"Not yet, small steps." Vanessa instructed. "First, calm it. It is still wild within you, untamed. In order to do that, you must be calm yourself."

Monica hadn't noticed her rising heartbeat, the excitement of learning the art of Blood magick had her pulse racing.

"Still yourself. Breathe deep. Think of the beach. Surround yourself with the scent of the misty morning air and hear the waves crashing."

Monica found her anchor, closing her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths and imagining the sounds and the smells of the Hartenbos beach. She opened her eyes when her pulse had returned to normal, and saw the blood in her hand had stilled.

"Well done. You have already crossed the first obstacle. You are a natural, my dear."

"What do I do now?" Monica felt herself smile.

"Be patient. Feel it moving beneath your skin as well as over it. Do not think of it, do not concentrate on it. Just feel it."

She remained calm, breathing deep, steady breaths, eyes closed and waited. The warmth that had previously spread over her body returned, but instead it was moving back down her arm, out onto her hand into the puddle of blood she held in her palm. She felt it moving, following her thoughts.

"That's it. You are doing so well." she heard Vanessa praise.

She formed an image in her mind slowly, careful not to break her sense of the blood that was steadily taking shape to match her thought. A thick, red pyramid grew from her palm, as solid as a genuine structure. She felt it grow, felt the tip reaching ever upward, growing larger until her hand could barely sustain its size.

"Careful!" Vanessa warned. "Know your limit. You are not immortal and sufficient exsanguination can still leave you severely anemic."

The red pyramid on Monica's hand liquified, blood splashing down over her hand and to the floor below as she lost her focus.

"Shit. Sorry."

"That's fine, darling. Another obstacle crossed. You are doing just fine. Now let us focus on retracting your blood. If we want you to live to see tomorrow's battle you need to be able to sustain yourself."

"This is so awesome." Monica giggled, feeling just a little weak in the knees after the blood she had lost, but eager to press on with her training.

************************************

Alice stood in the empty, unfurnished Rec room, willing Amy to her, tugging at her through space and time, and then she was there. All light had disappeared into the darkness that now enveloped the room, save for the match Amy struck to illuminate her face.

Her hair had turned completely black, all trace of color gone from her eyes as well. Her skin was pale and small cracks had appeared around her eyes and mouth. And her expression... There was just nothing there. Nothing but a burning rage.

"Amy... kiddo, I know you're angry at us, but please, sis, please come home."

Amy stared at her, her face not betraying a hint of emotion, and neither did her voice.

"You're not my sister."

"No, you're right, I'm not your sister." Alice said calmly, taking special heed of her own words. "But you are my sister."

Amy didn't blink or display any hint of affection toward the woman she had shared so much of her past and her joys and sorrows with.

"Please. Come back. We... I... Will do everything I can to help you. I promise you."

Amy stepped closer to her slowly then.

"Too late for that now. Too late."

Amy's lips were at her ear then, a cold whisper piercing the silence, words slow and icy.

"It's standing behind you in the dark. It's waiting for you."

Alice spun around and saw nothing but black emptiness before her. She turned back to face Amy, but she was gone. Only darkness. She tried to will the light back, but found she didn't have control anymore. She tried calling a match to her, but nothing materialized in her hand. She was powerless, and utterly alone in the dark.

"Vanessa?!" She called out for help. She imagined she heard something unseen fluttering past her, like a torn cloak on a washing line being whipped by a strong gust of wind. She felt the panic rising in her throat as she called out again.

"Monica! I'm trapped in here!" She navigated her way through the dark, trying to find the door, hands stretched out to touch something, anything to give her an idea of where she was. 

"Get me out of here!" Her voice tore through the silence around her, and so did the whipping, flapping sound. The thing in the dark was circling her, like a shark circling its helpless prey.

Then came the distinctive voice from behind her, the deep, barely female voice from her nightmare.

"Hello. Alice."

Alice swallowed hard, her throat dry, the muscles in her neck tightening. With a shaky breath, she answered the creature behind her.

"Who are you?"

"You know... Who I am."

Alice felt a scream pressing at her lungs, begging to be free. She started shaking with fear.

"And you know... That I'm going to get you." The voice wailed slowly.

"I'm gonna get youuuuuuu, little buggieeee." The menacing words sank down into Alice's stomach, nauseating her.

"I'm gonna get you." The voice teetered down into a dying wheeze.

"IIIIIII'mm goonnaaaa geeet yeeeuuuuuuuu."

Alice was running, sweat beading down her face as the voice came closer, and closer, and closer... and then she slammed into something and there was light. The magnificent, glorious sanctuary and warmth of light.

She fell to the floor, kicking the door shut behind her as she breathed rapidly, gasping at the air she took in, still shivering profusely at her close encounter with whatever the thing was that had come from her nightmares into their reality. She silently hoped that it had returned to the hellish depths of her mind from where it had come from. She didn't believe in a god, but she offered a prayer to any god that would listen.

"Have mercy on us."

************************************

Several hours of practice later, Monica had become somewhat proficient at wielding her blood as a weapon, Alice had checked in on them, leaving after watching a few rounds of both failure and triumph, not mentioning her encounter in the Rec room.

After winning a duel against her mother, she was taught the final step of regeneration, to use her new mystic gift to close and heal her wound as if it had never been created.

It was past three in the morning when they concluded their Blood magick training and retreated down into the small lounge area, where Vanessa conjured up a balanced meal to build up the blood her daughter had lost during her training. Tofu, yogurt, salmon roe, pineapple, berries and a big jug of soy milk was served and Monica dug right in as Vanessa turned on some quiet acoustic music for ambiance while she ate.

When she had finished her meal, Monica sat silently, staring at the empty tray.

"There must be something we can do to help him."

Vanessa didn't respond for the longest time, but finally conjured up a seemingly ancient wooden box and proceeded to open it, taking out a folded note and passing it to Monica.

Monica couldn't understand the symbols written on the paper as she opened it, glyphs were scribbled randomly yet seemingly in sequence.

"That is a spell of tremendous depth and power. Supposedly it reverts a once human creature back to its original form. If we do manage to save your father, and I pray we do, that spell might be the key to releasing him from his curse. Or at the very least restore him to human form."

"If we can even decipher it."

"I have faith that we will. It seems to be tied to the Verbis Diablo, yet that in itself is quite a treacherous language in many different ways. I do not teach it to the women of my coven, yet they speak it if they lose their balance. It's a trigger, the sign that they are slipping. Just as I thought Amy had slipped."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"There lies a darkness in her that rivals my own."

"What is she?"

"She is just a girl, hosting the coming of the end."

"Like you?"

"I was born into what I am. Amy, she is just an unfortunate victim."

"Can we save her?"

"If anyone can, it is Alice."

"Speaking of, where is Alice?"

"Meditating most likely, as she does when we find ourselves on a dangerous course. That, or she is trying to find Amy.

Monica paused, as if uncertain if she should ask the question nagging at her, but she finally managed to.

"Do you think we'll win?"

Vanessa smiled, a hint of sadness behind her eyes, as she removed something else from the box. Another smaller box, which she opened to reveal a stack of cards.

"Shall we find out?"

She pulled the table closer with her mind and spread the cards out on top of it, her fingers skittering over the deck as it expanded before them.

"These aren't like normal tarot cards, are they?"

"You are quite right. After you appeared to me that day on the beach, I became desperate. I sought a woman, a woman who teached me all the forbidden things I have since come to cherish. When she was murdered, these were among the belongings she left to me."

"I'm sorry, Mother. The Vampire..."

Vanessa cut her off, raising her hand.

"I know, Mina. I know."

She smiled softly, before looking to the cards.

"Feel them now as you felt your blood. Let them speak to you."

Monica did as she was told, clearing her mind and allowing herself time to feel the whispering sigh in the back of her mind guiding her hand to where it needed to be. She stopped her hand where she felt it belonged, and lifted the card when Vanessa told her to.

The High Priestess Card.

"What does that mean."

"It means..." Vanessa looked up, smiling brightly. "...that soon my daughter won't need a teacher. The cards only confirm what I already know to be true. That you were born for this."

After they discussed the other cards and their meanings, Vanessa giving her pride and joy a quick tutorial, she announced that it was time for the women of the house to convene. She asked Monica to go check in on Alice and bring her to the throne room.

Once Monica had gone, Vanessa went to gather the cards to put them away. When she felt the tingle however, she had no choice but to obey her own grim curiosity, and lifted the card that was meant for her.

************************************

5am came and went. Vanessa, Monica and Alice sat cross legged in a circle, surrounded by candles. They were all in a deep state of shared meditation, their minds linking as they were carried deeper into the essence of the Demimonde. They let it peel away at their layers and their thoughts until there was nothing but midnight magicks filling them, absorbing into them like a large ocean of secrets soaking into pliant, willing sponges.

They needed everything they could take from it for the war they were about to face. The hour was drawing ever closer. The hour of their triumph, or their defeat. Whatever fate had in store for them, they were ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next stop epic battle.


	10. Skemer Oorlog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more into the fray, into the last good fight I'll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it... I apologize for the fact that it reads more like a movie than a real written piece of work, but even so I'm satisfied with how it turned out.

The sun was setting behind the thick trees of the woodlands behind Amy's childhood home, the silence was deafening. Every animal in a two mile radius had fled, sensing the quickening in the air, the stirrings of the war that would shake the very ground it took place on.

In the spacious front yard, two groups of witches stood facing each other with about five feet of space between them, one consisting of three women and the other of approximately twelve males and females altogether. Vanessa stood at the front of her group, Monica and Alice right behind her while Amy, Hecate and the Dark wolf stood at the head of the large group of Hecate's underlings.

"At last, here we are." Hecate grinned.

"Here we are." Vanessa answered, not betraying a hint of self-doubt even though her heart was pounding in her chest.

"You brought the crystal, I presume?"

"Naturally."

"Outstanding. Hand it over and no blood will be shed today."

Vanessa made a small snort in the back of her throat, her lips curling up in a mocking smile as she burst out in laughter, a sound of ridicule aimed toward her foe.

"Just hand it over? You really are as big a fool as your mother, believing for a second that you could just take and never have to give anything in return." Vanessa managed between the laughter that shook her body.

"Careful, little scorpion! You test my patience, and I am not a patient woman."

Vanessa stopped laughing abruptly, her expression becoming serious and determined.

"Release Amy, and you may have the crystal."

"I see, it appears you are terribly misinformed. Amy is not my prisoner. She is here of her own free will."

"You think it her will? It is you who is misinformed, princess. You are standing next to a cocoon containing God's shadow."

"Well that is just peachy." Hecate giggled with delight after a moment of shock. "Now I have God's shadow and his hound at my side. That must surely be putting a damper on his day."

"You will not find it as amusing once that cocoon hatches. Do you realize what that would mean? I thought her use of Necro was only tremors from the beast clawing at the cage inside her, but now I know, it is only the beginning. Once she manifests the other three horsemen, it would be the end of all life on earth. I stopped it once, it won't let me contain it within her again. It would kill her first, then seek out a new host. The apocalypse is way past overdue."

"Yes well... you falsely presume I care about the world and who lives or dies. I just want what is mine. The world and everything in it can burn for all I care. My immortality lies within that crystal along with my soon-to-be favorite pet, so it is rightfully mine."

"You cannot have it. Not while Amy is with you." Vanessa calmly stated.

"Then it will be fun removing it from your cold, dead fingers. Amy is right where she belongs." She lifted the vial of blood in her hand up and tossed it to the Dark wolf. It grabbed the vile in its jaws and started chomping, the glass shattering and crunching between its fangs, the blood running over its tongue and down its throat.

Vanessa felt it then, the sharp stab of mortality as her body started to wither, her age catching up to her. "You..." Her voice crackled, and Hecate giggled hysterically with excitement.

"Yes, me! Oh this is so much better than I had hoped! I thought you would just be vulnerable to my attacks, but seeing you grow grey and old before my eyes? I shall recall this very moment later tonight as I pleasure myself."

Vanessa's knees gave way beneath her as she fell to the ground helplessly.

"Mother!" Monica rushed to her side, catching the aged Vanessa in her arms before she hit the dull green grass. Alice came closer, unsure of how to help, instead turning her attention to Amy.

"Do you see what she is now? This is what she wants for all of us!"

She imagined seeing a flicker of doubt and regret in the young redhead's eyes, a hint of the girl she knew, but something was holding her back, not allowing her to feel.

"Amy! Plea..." Alice was cut off when everything became still, Hecate's maniacal laughter, Monica pleading to Vanessa to hold on, the crunching of glass between gigantic molars, the world stood still as if it was in a stasis.

"Hey missy." Alice's voice was different as she raised her eyes up to Amy, her accent had changed and it had a serene note to it.

Amy gasped then, her eyes filling with tears.

"That's right. It's just me." she stood, slowly stepping closer to Amy. Everyone else around them stayed frozen as Amy's sister Josie spoke through Alice.

"This isn't you, kiddo. You need to fight, you need to put it behind its wall again. Look at Vanessa, look at Monica. And look at me. Look at this woman before you. If you don't come back, they'll all be dead soon."

Amy made a small sobbing sound, the tears that pooled in her eyes began to flow down her face. Her face was strained, her teeth bared as if she was struggling against herself.

"Come back, Amy. Come back. It killed the family you had. Don't let it kill the one you have now. Don't let it win."

Amy started shivering, her fists balling, the green twinkle of her irises pushing past the darkness that surrounded them.

"I love you, missy." Josie said softly as Amy screamed in determination and rage, pushing the shadow that had claimed her back into the dark corner where Vanessa had caged it before, locking it tight as time resumed its relentless pace.

When Hecate heard Amy's fierce scream, she turned to the sight of a fist that promptly slammed into her face, sending her flying off balance and falling hard into the wet grass below.

When she recollected herself she witnessed Amy and a wide-eyed and grinning Alice helping Monica to get Vanessa up from the ground, the three of them carrying her off to the woodlands.

Hecate spat some blood from her mouth where it had seeped from her split lip. A furious snarl escaped her before she raised and pointed her finger toward the retreating girls, a ferocious shout came from her bloodied lips.

"Kill them all!!!"

************************************

When they entered the woods, the three of them carrying Vanessa's aged body, Alice motioned for them to stop.

"I'll take her, get her someplace safe and cloak her. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Right!" Amy shouted enthusiastically, her hair reverting steadily back to its original fiery red, slapping her hands together and wiggling her fingers. Monica gave Alice a solid look and nodded, acknowledging the approaching sounds of feet crunching over twigs and foliage.

Alice took Vanessa into her arms and braced herself, bending her knees to gather momentum, and then jumped, disappearing from sight as she leapt high above the tree tops, a faraway tree branch cracked as she landed and strained against it to leap once more.

Monica and Amy turned toward a the sound of someone closing in on them.

"They're coming, we need to draw them out in small groups. You go that way!" Amy pointed Monica to the west of the woods.

"Split up? Is that a good idea?" Monica wasn't sure if Amy could still take care of herself.

"I can take care of myself, these woods are like my home. And I can do this..." She grinned as she pulled an approaching underling into the air with a motion of her hand, bringing him in closer and suspending him in front of her briefly. She waved 'hi' to him before releasing energy out from her palm and sending him flying at breakneck speed, his figure disappearing between the trunks. They heard a crash as he slammed into a tree in the unseen distance moments later.

"See? Good ol' pull and throw. I'll be fine. Now off you go." she giggled, as she skipped in the opposite direction in which she pointed Monica.

Once Monica had covered some ground, she reached for the small razor she had brought with her, cutting her hand hastily and calming herself to feel the blood moving. Seconds later she had willed it into a set of solid and sharp red claws that covered her finger tips.

"Bring it on!" she shouted, and waited in anticipation. Moments later, two underlings came rushing at her, tossing small brown bags in her direction, which exploded on contact, releasing thick black smoke and clouding her vision. Blindness bags, she remembered Vanessa had warned her against them the previous night.

She stood silent, focusing on the sounds in and around her, listened to her own heart beating, keeping it steady as she was taught by her mother. The sounds around her became heightened, and she could hear the soft slow thud of footsteps carefully circling her. Then one pair of footsteps picked up, rushing toward her and she held out one of her hands, her pursuer impaling himself on her claws. 

She stood frozen for a moment, staring in horror at what she had just done. The boy was no more than eighteen. Blood spattered forth from his lips as he gasped for breath, claws lodged deep into his throat, panicked hands grasping at her arm, then life fading from his eyes. She withrew her hand, shocked and shivering from her first kill.

Alice's words came back to her. "The first is always the worst... Something breaks inside you." And then Vanessa's words the previous night during training. "You will be traumatized, you will be horrified, but you have to realize the simple fact that if you don't kill them, they'll kill you. Tomorrow will be a fight for survival... and for revenge."

With the words in her mind she brought herself back to reality only to feel the harsh sting as a thick blade was plunged into her shoulder. She lost the focus on her heartbeat, the claws on her hands liquifying as the thumping in her chest sped up. She exclaimed in pain as she pulled the dagger from where it was lodged just beneath her shoulder bone.

Then hands clasped around her throat and forced her down onto her back, the dagger dropped next to her and was kicked away swiftly. She tried desperately to breathe, but her throat was tightly constricted. She tried shoving the older man off her, but his weight kept her pinned down as his rough hands drew tighter around her neck. She struggled desperately, gagging as her adam's apple bobbed up and down beneath the vice like grip and the pressure of thumbs at her jugular veins. She felt herself slipping, her vision blackening as her heart slowed.

Her heart slowed. With every last bit of life in her, she felt her blood racing, and willed it to her shoulder, where it formed a large spike that bore through the man's forehead, exiting through the back of his head. His hands grew slack on her throat and she gasped loudly, her throat burning every time she coughed, taking in the woodland air in large, deep breaths. She retracted the spike back into her shoulder, and blood poured from the gaping circular hole in the man's head down onto her. She pushed him off, and wiped the sticky red fluid from her face with the back of her hand.

She stood back up, her legs still unsteady but she needed to keep moving. More of them would be coming, and she wouldn't let them get the better of her the second time around.

************************************

Amy was hiding in the tall grass just as she had countless times before, only this time, it was not her sister searching for her, but the Black queen herself, calling to her, madness dripping like acid from her voice.

"Amyyyyyy... No use in hiding, traitorous little shit. I'll find you. And when I do, I shall take great pleasure in tearing your heart from your chest and feasting on it!" She shouted, turning her attention to the grass. Amy peaked from a distance as Hecate touched the bladed ring on her index finger, the one she had snatched from her mother's bloodied corpse before setting their mansion alight. She reached to her back and drew the ring over her shoulder blades, allowing her blood to seep out. Then it took shape, forming large red wings that carried her up from the ground as they flapped.

She scanned through the grass and spotted Amy the very moment she was pulled from mid-flight toward the girl and then flung far back, but not far enough, as her wings broke the momentum and she took off in pursuit of Amy.

Amy turned back momentarily to wrap a large invisible field of energy over Hecate, slamming her down hard into the solid soil below, knocking the winged witch's breath out of her lungs and leaving her stunned. As Amy turned to witness her small triumph, she felt her foot catching on a small root and she stumbled forward and fell on the uneven terrain, knocking the wind out of herself as well.

Hecate was behind her within moments, her wings reforming to stretch out and pin Amy's hands down, preventing her from expelling magical energy.

"Tricky tricky tricky." A third blood protrusion reached out from behind Hecate's back, its point sharpened and readying to impale the helpless girl on the ground. Then came a roaring from their right as a large Suzuki motorcycle flew through the air and slammed into Hecate, the front wheel ripping into her face as it landed, pinning her beneath it.

Alice was sat on the powerful vehicle, revving it and spat down to where Hecate lay wriggling and bloodied, her face a raw mass of flesh.

"C'mon sis!" Alice shouted, holding her hand out to Amy and beckoning her to climb aboard. Amy giggled, running to the bike and mounting it, cozying up behind Alice, hands wrapped around her middle. Delighted laughter filled the air as Alice revved once more, the bike jumping slightly as they drove over Hecate and off to aid Monica.

************************************

They didn't get far before they noticed three of Hecate's underlings were following them, having shapeshifted into panthers and covering ground fast, gaining on them.

"You remember how to shoot?" Alice shouted above the roar of the bike's engine.

"Yep!" Amy shouted back, reaching inside the inner pocket of Alice's leather jacket, pulling out her loaded Beretta pistol. She pulled the firing pin back as she held one hand firmly on Alice's stomach as she turned and raised the pistol to line her shots up. She silently thanked Alice for attaching the laser sights, she wasn't a terrible shot after all those days they spent shooting targets, but the circumstances were different, her hand wasn't steady and neither were her targets.

Yet after some misplaced shots, she finally managed to hit the closest panther as it was closing in on them. It yelped and vanished behind them. The other two bit the dust soon after, Amy reaching back around and removing a fresh magazine from Alice's side pocket.

"Just in case there's more!" Amy shouted, placing the magazine between her teeth. And then there was more, two more panthers appeared from behind them and Amy lined up her shots, hitting the first with her second attempt. The other was smarter, learned from its partner's mistake and ran in zigzag patterns, dodging the bullets raining down around it. It came closer, until it was running right next to the rear wheel. Amy aimed the sights at its head but the trigger didn't produce a bullet.

Shit! She cussed under her breath, and hastily ejected the spent clip and released her grip on Alice to insert the new one. The panther took its chance and leapt up toward her, only to be met at the last millisecond with the barrel of the Px4 Storm and then it was flung helplessly back to the ground and disappeared with a bullet between it's eyes.

Amy breathed a deep sigh of relief, hugging her arms around Alice and burying her face in the leather of her jacket.

"They gone?!" Alice shouted, slowing down to a speed where they could hear each other.

"I think so!" Amy held on to the pistol nontheless.

"It's good to have you back, sis." Her voice was now clearly audible above the sound of the bike.

"You're not my sister."

Alice felt a chill running down her spine, remembering the same words from the night before, when Amy rejected her and instead pulled her nightmare into reality. She feared for a moment that Amy was going dark again, but there came a playful giggle from behind her.

"Gotcha!"

"You are so fucking inappropriate, I love it!"

"What?!"

"Nothing!"

"Okay, coz it sounded like you just said you love me!"

"Keep dreaming, kid!"

Suddenly Alice felt a sharp pain in her chest, and looked down to see a thick arrow consisting of dark magic sticking out between her breasts. She lost control of the bike, and she and Amy fell helplessly from it as it skidded on its side and crashed into a tree to the side of the trail they had been on, completely wrecking it.

When Amy woke, bleeding and dizzy from her concussion, the first thing she saw was Alice beside her, eyes open and glassy as she lay completely still and lifeless.

"A...Alice..." she reached out a shaky hand toward her best friend who lay dead only a few feet away. "Don't..." she coughed up some blood. "Please don't... leave me." A large shadow hovered over her, the shadow of a gigantic wolf. Hecate's favorite pet. It snarled ferociously as Amy managed to turn toward it. It was accompanied by one of Hecate's female underlings, who was wielding an intricately designed longbow.

"Have at it, doggy." she said, and the wolf attacked, seizing Amy in its jaws.

************************************

Monica lashed out, her blood whipping in large circular movements, cutting down the remainder of Hecate's underlings as they approached, splitting the very last one in two as she leapt up and brought her blood-whip down. She was out of breath and fatigued after her prolonged dance with death, and she felt dizzy with blood loss after numerous failures to keep her heart steady.

She stumbled and sat down on the nearby tree stump, recalling her blood back into her hand. She felt nauseous for many different reasons, primarily because she had murdered seven people in fifteen minutes. She attempted healing herself, couldn't focus on her wound, she was physically and emotionally exhausted.

"Hey blondie." A mumbled slur came from behind her and then there was the pain in her lower back as Hecate stabbed her from behind with a blood-blade, a mangled hand running across her cheek as the blade was driven deeper, severing her spinal cord, and leaving her paralyzed.

"Oh how these moments make everything worthwhile." Hecate spoke through torn lips, slurring words hissing at Monica's ear. Then she was dropped to the ground, gasping and helpless as she witnessed the bloodied mass that once was the proud and beautiful Black queen.

"You are like a little weed. I cut you down and you just keep coming back. I think it's time to pull you up from the roots."

From the shrubbery next to them came the Dark wolf, its eyes falling upon Monica. Its growl was low and gutteral, but something stirred in it. The firey rage burning in its eyes stilled and they filled with a kind of sorrow. A small whine came from the beast, barely audible.

"Kill her for mommy. Then take me home." Hecate sneered at the wolf.

Monica groaned with pain, unable to move as blood seeped steadily from her open wound. She managed to look into the wolf's eyes and pled.

"Daddy... Daddy... Please help me..."

Within a second, the wolf was on top of Hecate, snatching her up in its jaws and shaking her about violently as if she was a chewtoy. Bones broke and flesh tore as her body was repeatedly ravaged beween canine cuspids. Her gurgling, panicked screams filled the night air of the woods as she was carried off into the distance.

************************************

When Vanessa awakened after dusk, revitalized and youthful once more, she broke through the cloaking spell Alice had placed on her. The corruption Hecate had committed by feeding her blood to Ethan, a deed that broke the very foundation of his role as her guardian and protector, had only been temporary. Even so, she tried listening for thoughts, anything that might indicate that Monica, Amy or Alice were still alive.

She was terrified, the girls were on their own for so long, without her at their side to help them and guide them, and Monica without her mother. She focused, cleared her thoughts and listened. Somewhere far away she could hear Monica's struggling, she was fighting desperately, her blood was running dangerously thin.

Vanessa made haste toward her daughters location, listening for traces of Alice or Amy but couldn't hear anything. She silently prayed that they were safe somewhere far off and the worst hadn't come to pass.

When she stumbled upon their bloodied bodies minutes later, however, she knew her prayers had been in vain. She could hear Monica now, she was close, but something was wrong, she wasn't fighting anymore, she was gasping, the sound of her distressed thoughts echoing in Vanessa's mind. She felt her physical pain as if it had been inflicted on her own body. She ran then, as fast as her feet could carry her. She would not lose her daughter again. She refused to. 

************************************

Vanessa carried her daughter in her arms to where Ethan was devouring a barely alive Hecate, pulling chunks of flesh from her body. Ethan's fur was no longer black, it had reverted to a snowy white color and his eyes were a deep icy blue. She laid her down, a soft whimper escaping the girl's lips. Vanessa had tried her best to heal Monica, cutting her hands wide open, willing her blood into the large gash in Monica's back, but her body rejected it, she wouldn't heal. "It doesn't hurt anymore." She had whispered before Vanessa had gathered her in her arms. "Now I'll never... get to learn to play chess."

"Ethan..." Vanessa called to him and he looked up from his mangled feast, meeting her gaze. "You understand me, don't you? She is dying, Ethan. Come be with her now. Let us be a family one last time."

The enormous wolf abandoned Hecate, moving to Monica's side, nudging her hand with its snout, licking it gently as if trying to rouse her. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again, a big smile spreading across her bloodied lips, her breath ragged and shallow.

"D...daddy." She barely managed, her hand resting on the wet snout. "I... found you..." Her eyes flew open and with a soft gasp she was gone from this life.

Seconds later, a piercing, devastated howl sounded through the night sky, accompanied by a scream of unfathomable sorrow.

************************************

Vanessa stood over Hecate's corpse, holding the Luciferian crystal in her hand.

"You destroyed my life for this. You wrecked my family. You took my child. My coven. For this thing."

She took the crystal and shoved it into Hecate's hand.

"Just take the fucking thing." She attempted wrapping Hecate's limp fingers over it. "Are you going to take this fucking thing?! Take it! Take it! You fucking bitch! You fuck..." She trailed off as she started to sob. She sat there for the longest time, her tears wouldn't stop flowing.

Moments later, she collected herself and stood up, ready to return to where the White wolf lay with its head resting upon Monica's breast, where her heart had stopped beating. She spared one last glance to Hecate.

"I'll see you in hell." she turned to walk back to Monica, resting her head beside the wolf's on their daughter.

A furious roar drew their attention, where behind them, Hecate crawled on her belly, her gored hand gripped tight around the crystal, growing tighter as she attempted to shatter it.

Then there was the deafening gunshot, and her movements stopped completely. Two nude men came from the shadows behind her, one held the sniper rifle that had shot Hecate in the back of her head, while the other reached down and took the crystal from her hand.

"The Illuminati thanks you for your gift." the man with the rifle said before he and his companion turned and walked off, disappearing into the night.

Vanessa couldn't have been less interested in the Illuminati's intent and their plans for Lucifer, instead she stayed at Monica's side, holding her hand and not letting go. Ethan took a moment hours later to collect Alice and Amy, carrying their bodies back in his jaws, and laying them down gently next to Monica.

When dawn came, Vanessa looked up into Ethan's cold blue gaze and nodded. It was time to take them home, and as she summoned the Demimonde to appear before them, she realized that there was nothing to go back to. Nothing but an empty home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a massive, painful gamble. Hope I turn out a win.


	11. Moeder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of her loss, Vanessa comes to an important decision, and enlists John Clare's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter. Read the epilogue for some nice teasers ;)

1.  
Three days had passed since Vanessa and Ethan had brought the bodies home. The bodies of Monica, Amy and Alice. Ethan refused to move from the spot in the dining room where Vanessa held them in stasis, the giant White wolf vigilantly watching as if his daughter would return from death at any moment. Vanessa couldn't be in that room. Not until she had made the necessary preparations.

A polite knock came on the door to the Demimonde and when Vanessa opened it, a familiar yet different face from the one she had known for over a century greeted her. John Clare, as the man had named himself, was standing on the doorstep, dressed in black formal wear. His scarring was gone, his eyes the deep color of a blue sky and his head was shaved bare, the skin healthily shining in the light of the midday sun. 

With the new age and a lot of luck, Vanessa had referred him to a friend of a friend during their last exchange six years prior. A man who had knowledge of the dark underworld of the occult, but who was also just a simple cosmetic surgeon. And his work on John had been spectacular. At a simple glance, John would seem like an ordinarily handsome, distinguished and soft-spoken gentleman. Only if you were to look close, you would see the years of hardship and the intimate knowledge of rejection and disgust in his eyes.

"My god, mister Clare. You look fantastic." She managed a half-smile as she hugged him tightly, feeling the solid bull of a man return the kind gesture of reunion.

"I came as soon as I was able." His voice still contained the shy, reserved quality that had always defined him. Vanessa didn't let go of him and moments later she was clutching at him, crying into his broad shoulder.

2.  
"So how has life been treating you, John?" she used his first name more often than she had during their earlier days, reminding herself that hardly anyone in the present year still addressed each other by their last names. They sat in front of a corner caffe in Regents Park, waiting patiently for their order.

"The new face makes it better. It is pleasant to be seen by people, to be looked at as a man and not some hideous creature." He felt her hands close over his, giving a gentle squeeze. The goddess in human flesh, his closest friend. Then she sat back as their Chai Tea's arrived, served with a smile from the waitron. 

"Doctor Siegmeyer is a true master of his craft. He did an amazing job of accentuating those beautiful eyes."

"Yes." He smiled radiantly. "Yes, he did."

"Now everyone can see what a beautiful soul you have."

She took three sachets of brown sugar from the holder, stirring as she poured the granules into the glass, mixing it in with the milky cinnamon blend, setting her teaspoon down on the saucer beneath.

"Thank you for coming." she didn't look up from her glass as she raised it to her lips.

"Of course." He followed suit, burning his lip on the warm fluid but not even wincing. He had felt pains a great deal worse through his long years of living death.

"You aren't going to ask why I called you here?" She looked up into his eyes then, her stare as solid and determined as steel.

"Whatever you may need, you shall have it." His words were sincere, there truly was nothing that he wouldn't do for her, the only woman who had ever seen him for what he truly is. A gentle, lonely soul who just needs to be loved.

"No matter the cost?" She searched his face for any trace of doubt.

"No matter the cost."

She fell silent, sipping at her beverage.

"What can I do?" He leaned forward slightly, setting his glass down.

"You remember the tome? The one from the cottage?"

"Yes." It dawned on him what she was planning to do.

"Could you bring it to me? I'll arrange for a taxi to take you there."

"Of course. When shall I depart?"

"Once we have finished here."

"It shall be done."

She smiled then, a true smile unlike the false attempts she had made since he arrived.

"Thank you." She whispered, her eyes glinting with tears, pursing her lips together to steady them, and she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead.

They sat in silence, drinking their Chai Tea's. He didn't dare question her, he already knew her intent and her decision had been made. He knew that nothing he could do or say would ever change her mind.

3.  
As she awaited John's return that evening, Vanessa placed the letter she had just written neatly in an envelope and joined the great White wolf where it stood watch. She wrapped her arms around its neck, shedding tears into the fur.

"It's going to be alright, Ethan. Everything is going to be alright."

She lifted her face to meet the icy blue eyes, beholding her with wonder and adoration.

"I will, always and forever, love you. Ethan Chandler. It is you. It has always been you."

She pressed a kiss to the wolf's snout as the knock came on the door. She smiled at him one final time, and whispered into his pointed ear.

"Take care of our girls."

4.  
Monica opened her eyes as if for the first time in years. She felt renewed and invigorated and strecthed her arms wide, moaning softly as her joints returned to life from their slumber. She sighed deeply, opening the curtains to her room with a mere thought. Light streamed in through the windows. A new dawn had come.

When she stood to get dressed, she saw the letter sitting on top of the dresser, the envelope intricately inked in her name.

5.  
My dearest Mina.  
Here you are again, standing as tall and beautiful as you had the moment you walked back into my life.  
My greatest regret is that I couldn't keep you safe. Not as my friend, not as my child and not as the woman you are today.  
I failed you, as I always have, and that is where I perhaps now may redeem myself.  
You are now blood of my blood, all three of you. You are my daughters, and I shall live on inside each of you forever more.  
Do not fear the night. Seize it. Dance in it as we danced together. Abandon your past and look to the future, for I am with you.  
Love your sisters, for they are now your sisters in every possible way. You are no longer a coven, but a family. My family, and your father's.  
He will forever be at your side, to protect all of you. To catch you when you fall and to love you. This is my gift to you, my darling. This I leave with you. You never knew your father, but now you will.  
Enclosed is the tome of what was once called the Poetry of Death. Take great heed with it, for it holds many dangers to yourself and your sisters, but also the means for you to reclaim what was lost to you so long ago.  
Mister John Clare, my dear friend, will stay with you as long as you need him. You can place your trust in his hands with a clear mind. He will teach you to play chess, for he taught me.  
And with that my darling, and my other two darlings who you are most probably later reading this letter to at the dining table, I wish you all my love, and know that you will prevail in the face of any and every peril that comes your way.  
Sincerely  
Your Mother  
Vanessa

6.  
Monica closed the letter, placing it on the dining table where Alice, Amy and John had sat listening silently. Amy and Alice both couldn't contain their tears as they got up to hug each other with equal parts grief and joy. After a while, they looked over to Monica, extending their arms to her, and she got up to join them. The hug felt amazing. It felt like belonging, like everything was how it was meant to be. And it felt even more amazing because at that moment, it was as though Vanessa was there, wrapping her arms around them as well, embracing her daughters.

7\. Alice and Amy sat on the roof of the Demimonde, facing the Serpentine Bridge. Alice was smoking a cigarette, while Amy sat swinging her legs where they dangled over the ledge.

"Do you feel any different?" Alice took a pull from her Marlboro light.

"Yup, better than ever!" Amy giggled.

"She really went all out for us, didn't she?"

Amy's giggle was replaced by a quiet sigh and a finger beneath her long lashes moments later as she wiped a tear away.

"She sure did."

"We're gonna make it count, right?"

"Right." Amy's whisper was determined and she smiled sadly. "And now we're sisters. Can you believe that? All of us."

"You're not my sister." Alice growled and Amy stared at her wide eyed.

"Gotcha!" She smiled slyly, and Amy's laughter could be heard all the way across the bridge.

8.  
"Hi daddy." Monica walked into the throne room where the White wolf sat waiting next to the throne, and he got up and approached her, tongue wagging in excitement. She raked a hand through the fur on his face, looking at the throne sadly.

"I think we should keep that there, keep this room her's. You know, just in case?"

The wolf managed what Monica imagined was an approving nod.

"Now, don't get mad, okay? Mom gave this book to me..."

The wolf growled at the sight of the evil tome that Vanessa had used to make her first kill.

"I said don't get mad. It's gonna help me decipher the spell that will make you all better."

The wolf stopped growling but his brow remained furrowed, staring distrustfully at the tome.

"I'm not gonna be able to do this with you in the room, am I?"

The wolf made a low yap in the back of its throat.

A knock came, and Monica turned to see John Clare smiling shyly in the doorway. She turned back to the wolf, ruffling his fur and rubbing her cheek against his.

"I'll be right back, daddy. Don't go anywhere."

The wolf made a ridiculous face before licking her on the cheek, walking back to the throne and sitting down next to it.

9.  
Monica helped John settle in the room that had already been made up for him.

"Thank you, miss Monica. Forgive me, I hope I'm not intruding."

Monica smiled at him with the same smile that he had known so well. It broke his heart and mended it at the same time.

"Will you be staying with us, John?"

"As long as I am wanted, yes." He nodded, unsure whether or not he was.

"We are honored to have you. Please, make yourself at home." She was so much like Vanessa, he realized. The spell she had performed from the tome he had brought to her from Ballentree Moor, he had feared that it would fail, that she would only make matters worse, but he saw it now. She lived on in each of them, guiding them and her essence shone through their smiles and their eyes. She wasn't gone completely, but she gave her life to immortalize those she cared about the most, and that in itself was the most beautiful gift a mother could ever give to her child.

"Thank you, miss Monica." he said when he was settled in and she was about to leave. She stopped at the door, looking back at him.

"John, please. You may call me Mina. Mina Ives."


	12. Nuwe Begin (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New World Order meets its match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to each and every person who has religiously read my chapters as they were posted. Scorpionmother and Twoforatable, you gals rock my world. It has been an amazing month and one hell of an eye-opener for me. Holy shit, I'm actually pretty adequate at this. Keep an eye out for the companion fic scorpionmother and I are working on, coming soon ;)

Somewhere far beneath the scorching, rocky surface of the Mojave desert, a series of tunnels connected the underground Illuminati Vegas branch of operations.

At the heart of the base, Edward Hyde, a man of around thirty years old with a short black mop of hair and delicate but masculine features, walked briskly up to a woman who was sitting in a chair facing several monitors, watching carefully as deals were made and artifacts were seized.

"Mother. We have him." Hyde sneered, venom dripping from his voice, an ominous grin spreading across his face.

"Has he talked?" The woman replied, sounding completely apathetic as she continued watching the monitors.

"Not yet, but give me some time. He may be immortal, but I'm sure administering chloric acid directly into his veins will work wonders in softening him up for your interrogation."

The woman stood from her chair, circling around to meet her son's eager gaze.

Lily Frankenstein was as beautiful and coldly graceful as always, clad entirely in skin tight black leather. She approached Hyde, taking his face into her hands and kissing him deep, the man eagerly stuffing his tongue into his mother's mouth. She slapped his hand away when it reached for her breast.

"Later, darling. Right now I have a guest to tend to." She strolled off leisurely, heading to the makeshift-interrogation room.

When she entered, John Clare sat bound and beaten to a pulp. Blood dripped from his open lips in a long trickle and his eyes were swollen shut.

"Monster. My monster."

She took a seat opposite from him, leaning forward with her elbows on her upper legs.

"You disappoint me, Caliban."

John was completely silent, not reacting to the name Victor Frankenstein had once called him lifetimes ago.

"It's alright." She stood from her chair and approached him. "I forgive you." She straddled him, locking her legs behind the chair.

"All I need from you... is one simple little answer." She pressed her lips to his, his blood streaming into her mouth. "Where is he?"

He gave a little cough which sounded more like a laugh. "Where is who?" He managed between broken lips.

"Are you playing coy with me, monster?" She bit down on his lip then, attempting to elicit a scream, but non would leave his lips.

"The Count! You filthy, disgusting thing." She trailed a hand down his red blood stained shirt and groped at his bulge. "Tell me this... and I may spare your life." She whispered against his swollen eyelids.

The sound he made then was definitely not a cough, but laughter. The sound of a hysterical captive pitying his captor.

"I shall rip the pretty eyes right from those bruised little sockets and stuff them up your arse if you do not stop that maniacal din!"

He continued laughing, gleeful and mocking toward his 'sister'.

"They are coming for you. You and your little brat."

She didn't understand his meaning until Hyde entered the room, out of breath and sweating. "Mother. You need to see this."

When Lily returned to the monitors, she was just in time to switch them over to the facility cameras' feedback and watch as they all turned static, one by one. What she saw on the final monitor sent her into a seething rage.

Ethan Chandler walked briskly down the corridor, gunning down her men as far as he went until there was nobody left standing in his way. When he was squarely in front of the camera, he smiled at it and lifted one of his pistols to the screen, and then the picture was reduced to static as well.

The loud sound of John Clare's laughter echoed through the facility as Lily and Hyde stood ready, awaiting the inevitable confrontation.

Far above them, on the surface of the Mojave, three pairs of bare female feet found the solid metal of a secret hatch in the dirt, and it flew open as if by magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are much appreciated ;)


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